


Spectator

by FanficAllergy



Series: The Parts We Play [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: 74th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Forced Marriage, Gen, Implied Relationships, Minor Character Death, One-Sided Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Politics, President Snow is a Bastard, Self-Sacrifice, Suicide, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, medium character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 181,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficAllergy/pseuds/FanficAllergy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prim volunteers to take a pregnant Katniss' place in the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games. Peeta vows to make sure Prim comes home alive. Now all Katniss can do is watch and hope that the boy with the bread will keep his word and her sister makes it home. That is until the Capitol finds a way to mess everything up. Cato/Clove, former Gale/Katniss, eventual Peeta/Katniss (kinda).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

**Chapter One**

Light streams through the window beside the bed I share with my sister waking me from my restless sleep. As I open my eyes, I let out a small groan noting the position of the sun in the sky. I'd planned on getting up earlier than this so I could do a lot of hunting before the events of the afternoon.

I roll over and my bladder twinges uncomfortably letting me know in no uncertain terms that I need to get up. As I start to get out of bed, I'm a little surprised when I realize my sister is still sleeping curled up against my back. I would have thought on today, of all days, she would have sought the comfort of our mother's bed. I guess she's grown up since the morning of her twelfth birthday four months ago, which was the last time I caught her sleeping with our mother.

I guess we all have.

I disengage Prim's arm from around my stomach and slip out from under the thin blanket. Standing upright, I realize I've made a mistake. The world shifts and spins and I fight to keep from blacking out. I sit down heavily on the bed and wait for the head rush to pass. These dizzy spells have been coming more and more frequently, much to my annoyance. My mother says it's not unusual considering I'm not eating properly. I stifle a snort at the remembered words. No one eats properly in the Seam. Still, I long for the days when standing up quickly didn't cause the world to spin like a child's top.

Prim's cat, Buttercup, hisses at me from his spot behind my sister's knees. I frown at the ugly yellow cat. "You do that again and I'll eat you," I threaten. Buttercup's eyes narrow and I can tell that he is considering doing just that when Prim shifts underneath the thin cover. Deciding to abandon hissing at me to go nuzzle at his mistress, Buttercup saunters up to Prim's face and gives a pathetic kitten meow.

"Katniss?" my sister's voice asks sleepily.

"Go back to sleep," I whisper, hoping that she'll do just that.

Unfortunately Prim ignores me. "You okay?" Prim's voice asks.

I grimace, naturally she would notice I'm leaning heavily on the edge of the bed. "I'm fine. Just getting up to pee."

"You want help?" she asks.

"No, I think I can pee on my own." And to prove my point, I start slowly making my way to the door leading out to the outhouse walking with one hand on a piece of furniture or a wall all the way. By the time I empty my bladder, the lightheaded feeling has passed. I feel better and ready to face the day. At least as ready as any person between the ages of twelve and eighteen can feel on Reaping Day.

When I get back inside, I notice Prim is no longer lying in bed but is instead up and dressed, my gathering bag flung over one shoulder, and is at the kitchen counter making the both of us breakfast of a few slices of bread and a little of her goat cheese. When she sees me, she smiles over one shoulder. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah."

"You still getting dizzy?" She looks at me pointedly.

I wince. "Yeah."

Prim frowns and scrapes some goat cheese from her bread on to mine. I start to protest but she stops me with a stern look. She knows as well as I do that I shouldn't be getting dizzy at all but she doesn't comment on it. Instead she says, "You should get dressed. The reaping isn't until two and we can get some good gathering in."

"And hunting," I add.

Prim makes a face. "That too." Ever since she started joining me on my daily excursions outside of the fence, she's become more accustomed to the necessities of hunting and killing your food. But she doesn't like it. However, when I suggest she doesn't need to join me anymore and that I already have a hunting partner in Gale she quickly shoots me down. It's just as well, I don't feel as comfortable with Gale as I used to and being alone outside the fence isn't a good idea at the best of times. And this really isn't the best of times.

I get dressed, noting with displeasure that my clothes don't fit me as well as they used to. Still it's not too bad, so I muddle through and pull on my boots. When I stand, Prim is there with my breakfast and I take it with a nod. I've learned never to turn down food in the past and it's an even more important lesson now.

As I eat my bread and cheese, Prim and I start walking toward the Meadow and the fence beyond it. "So what are we doing today?" she asks.

"I was planning on setting a few snares and maybe seeing if the blackberries and strawberries had ripened," I answer in between mouthfuls.

"Oh! I love strawberries!" Prim exclaims clapping her hands in delight.

I can't keep the smile from my face. "The mayor likes them more and he's willing to pay for them."

Prim pouts for a second at me then smiles. "Can we fish rather than hunt?"

I consider it. I can get more in trade when I hunt. Things we need like sugar, string, salt, tallow and clothes. But Prim seems to be more willing to kill when it comes to fish, probably because they aren't cute and cuddly like the game I hunt. "We'll see," I reply.

"Buttercup would like it better if we did," Prim tries wheedling.

"Oh, he would, would he?" I say with a smile.

"Yup! Please, Katniss!"

I sigh. "Fine. We can fish, but while you're picking berries, I'm going to try to get a few squirrels or something."

Prim's face falls for a moment, then she seems to accept it is about the best I'm going to do. It is true, besides we really need the extra income. Even with my mother the primary healer in the Seam we don't make all that much. Mostly my mother gets paid in goods, if she gets paid at all. Thinking about healing and my mother another thought pops into my head. "Once we get out there, we should try to get some more herbs for Mother. You know, just in case."

My sister screws up her face in thought for a moment, then nods. "I know just the ones."

When we reach the fence, we listen for the tell tale buzz of electricity running through the wires before slipping under the bottommost wire. I still get a little thrill from doing something illegal, even though I've been venturing out beyond the fence for over four years now. I feel lighter, freer on the other side of the fence than I do in District Twelve. We clear the tree line and I automatically set off toward the little cave covered by blackberry bushes where I used to meet with Gale.

Prim follows her eyes darting here and there nervously. She's always a little nervous in the woods and I can't really blame her. The second time she joined me in the woods a wild dog charged us. Luckily, I had my bow and was able to kill the beast before it did any damage. But it still scared the crap out of her, literally unfortunately, which didn't make Prim any happier having to walk home in soiled clothing.

We reach the jumble of rocks where I used to meet with Gale and the brambles of blackberry bushes scattered all over the area. Prim pulls out a square of cloth from my gathering bag and beelines for the berries. "Don't eat too many!" I call and she grins at me. I leave her be and walk over to the hollow tree where I store my favorite of my father's bows. I don't dare keep them inside the fence because while catching game is overlooked by the authorities so long as they don't outright catch you in the act of poaching, owning a weapon is on a whole other scale. If the Peacekeepers found out, I could be whipped or worse, so it is safer to keep the weapons out in the woods despite the potential damage from the weather.

I pull out the bow and sit down on a fallen log to string it while watching Prim. She is picking the berries with a smile on her face with about every fifth berry finding its way into her mouth. I don't say anything to her, my sister deserves her indulgence. She doesn't have to come with me into the woods, but she does it anyway because she loves me.

I feel more than hear someone approaching the two of us and cautiously turn to face the interloper, my bow at the ready. Almost as soon as I raise it, I lower it.

It's Gale.

My friend and hunting partner smiles slowly at the two of us. "Hey Catnip. Prim," he says in greeting.

Prim stops her gathering to shoot Gale a wary look. Ever since the events of her birthday she hasn't liked Gale as much as she used to. I can't blame her. I don't feel the same way about Gale that I used to either.

Not wanting to be totally rude to him, I greet, "Hi Gale. I didn't think you were going to be here today." It is the truth, I didn't think he was going to come here, to this spot. It is one of the reasons I'd set out for here.

"I wanted to get some berries, for Posy," he replies looking a little sheepish. I nod. His baby sister loves blackberries and Gale loves her.

"We can go somewhere else," Prim says moving to gather up her square of cloth.

He shakes his head. "No, I don't want to drive you away." He looks around nervously. "So what are you two planning on doing today?"

I know why he's asking. He wants to know if he's going to be in the way or if he can hang around with the two of us. "We were thinking of heading to the stream to set up a few nets and then pick some strawberries and maybe gather a few herbs."

"Not going to hunt?" he asks eyeing the bow in my hands.

"If the opportunity presents itself, I am," I answer.

"What about snares?"

I shrug. "I'm not as good with them as you." It's not false modesty, Gale is a better trapper than I am but I'm a better shot. We were a good team.

"I could come with you," he offers. "Set some snares and we can split fish and game?"

I look over at Prim who has stayed silent during the exchange. She looks like she wants to object but she knows that while out in the woods I am in charge. It is my call. My choice. "You can come with us, Gale," I say after a few moments. "But you don't need to feel obligated to."

A flash of anger sparks in Gale's Seam grey eyes. "You make it sound like hunting with me is a burden."

"You're overreacting," I state. "I just don't want you to change your plans because you feel like you need to watch over Prim and me."

"Dammit, Katniss! I should be watching over you!" he explodes, flailing his hands around for emphasis. "You're pregnant with my child!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written on November 1, 2012 as part of Nanowrimo. It was revised as of November 26, 2012 after I won Nanowrimo.
> 
> Beta read by RoseFyre.
> 
> Now that I have that out of the way, if you can't tell this story is definitely falling into the Realm of Alternate Universe. I've put out enough chapters that I feel that I can reveal the primary pairings of this story. There are three. A former Gale/Katniss as you can guess. An eventual Peeta/Katnisss, well, at least as much of one as we get at the beginning of Catching Fire. And Cato/Clove. There are others, but they are decidedly secondary and not important to the plot. This is also not a pure romance but something I am trying to write in the same feel and vein as the original books. I have this thing planned out through the end of Mockingjay for goodness' sake.
> 
> I've had this idea kicking around in my brain since about March and have held off on writing it until now. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Reviews are the currency of all fanfic authors. It is the only payment that we receive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Oblique discussion of the possibility of forcible intercourse, pregnancy options, and mild swearwords. Nothing worse than you would hear on primetime television or were mentioned in the original novels. But still, it's worth warning about.

**Chapter Two**

 

I glare at Gale.   He's right.   I am pregnant with his child and I really don't want to be.  

 

We didn't plan on getting pregnant.   It just kind of happened.  

 

It was at Prim's birthday party four months ago.   I'd managed to get a winter pheasant while out hunting and Gale had traded at the Hob for a few sweets and some cider from this autumn's apples.   What we didn't know at the time that the cider had turned.  We also didn't know that apparently I have a really low tolerance for alcohol.  Prim does too, but in her case it just makes her sleepy.   Me, I get silly and my inhibitions lower. 

 

I'd rather get sleepy.  It's safer.

 

My mother got called away early in the night to deal with someone who fell on the ice and ended up breaking something, I think a leg.  Hazelle, Gale's mother, stuck around as long as she could but she needed to go home and get Posy into bed.  Gale offered to stick around and help clean up.   Seeing that Prim was already sleeping from her one glass of cider, I accepted.  

 

In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have but it was Gale and he was my friend.   I never really saw him as anything more until that night.   I'm not really sure how things started.  We finished off what was left of the cider since it was starting to taste funny and you don't waste food in the Seam.  Then we put away what leftovers there were.   Throughout it all we were playing and teasing each other and making outrageous statements and jokes.  Then, things became weird. 

 

Gale kissed me.  

 

Standing next to each other at the sink doing the dishes, Gale leaned over and planted a kiss on my mouth.   I was surprised, but it didn't feel wrong or bad.   Just odd.   And I was curious, so I kissed him back.  

 

The rest is, as they say, history.   I remember liking a lot of it.  Most of it, in fact.  Right up until a certain point when things became painfully uncomfortable.   My mother told me later that it is very unusual for a girl to enjoy her first time, that it would take a lot of awareness and gentleness on her partner's part and even then there was bound to be some discomfort.   Gale and I weren't really aware of just what we were doing and there was little in the way of foreplay just lots of frantic groping and kissing.   What little foreplay there was, I'd enjoyed.   Just not enough to want to do it again once the alcohol wore off.  

 

The following morning, my mother returned from her patient and found us curled up in her bed together.   I'd told her that we'd just been sleeping and that nothing had happened but I know she didn't believe me.  After all, blood stains don't lie. Still, she didn't say anything.  Probably hoping that nothing would come of the encounter.  

 

Of course, I wasn't so lucky.  About two months after that night,  I started feeling sick, tired, and dizzy.  But it was spring and I passed the feeling off as one of those springtime colds that everyone seems to get coupled with food poisoning of some kind.  

 

Denial can be pretty imaginative at times. 

 

It was Prim who was the first to realize that I was pregnant.  I think it was because every morning right before the sun rose, I would suddenly dart from my bed to the sink or the back door to throw up.   So she confronted me.  I tried to deny it.  After all, my menses have never been what you would call regular, too little food and too much activity, so it was common for me to skip periods.   Then Prim started listing out all of the symptoms of pregnancy.  As I listened I realized  I couldn't deny that they were pretty much spot on.   Especially when under my clothes I'd seen the small, unmistakable bulge of my belly starting to form.  

 

She'd wanted to know how it happened and who the father was.   When I told her it was Gale and it had happened on her birthday, she got angry.   Really angry.  I don't think all of the anger was directed at Gale, I think she blames herself for falling asleep and "letting me get taken advantage of."   Her words, not mine.   I tried to tell her that it wasn't like that, but she knows that I don't want children, I've said it often enough.   She knows I don't think of Gale in that way.   She knows that something had to make me change my mind, which she doubts, or I was forced.  

 

So even though I hadn't said no, and, in fact, was somewhat okay with what happened that night. She doesn't believe me.   She thinks I'm trying to protect her.  She has a point.   If I had been forced, I wouldn't tell my sister.   I wouldn't tell anyone.  Although, I would hope Prim should know me well enough to know that I'd kill anyone who'd do that to me and damn the consequences.  

 

Once I'd found out I was pregnant, I'll admit that the first thought I had was of how to end it.   My mother is an herbalist and the Seam's primary healer so I know there are options.   However, they are only possible if the mother isn't very far along. 

 

By the time Prim had figured out I was pregnant, I was already starting my second trimester.   Too late for the safe options, there are other less-safe options but I know my mother wouldn't use them on me.  She wouldn't use them, period.  

 

Which meant that I was going to have this baby.  Gale's baby.   And that meant I needed to tell Gale he was going to be a father.  

 

That's a conversation I don't like to remember.  It was mostly the two of us arguing, him insisting we get married, me insisting that I'm not going to.  It's the same argument we have every time we meet since I've told him about the baby.   One time, I accused him of knocking me up just so he could trap me into marriage.  I think Prim overheard that argument because ever since then she insisted that she accompany me whenever I go into the woods.  

 

She's been joining me for little over a month now.  

 

I've been slowly teaching her about how to use a bow and how to fish and set snares.   She's doesn't like to kill.  Underneath it all, she's still my little sister who'd rather heal the squirrel than eat it.   However, she also knows that in a few short months, I won't be able to go out into the woods  anymore.   Not until the baby is born.

 

I can't help feeling guilty about that, it'd been my plan to not allow Prim to take tesserae so she'd only have one slip in the bowl come Reaping Day.   But after I'd found out I was pregnant, she went to the Justice Building with our little wagon and signed up for her share of tesserae.   So now Prim will have four slips in the large glass bowl this afternoon.  That's three more than I wanted.  Three more chances for her to get Reaped.

 

One little mistake and my whole world has been turned upside down.  I wasn't about to make another one.   And marrying Gale out of obligation would be a mistake.

 

"We've gone over this, Gale," I say with a sigh.  "You may have fathered the parasite inside of me, but that doesn't mean that you owe me anything.  I can take care of myself."

 

"And if she can't," Prim pipes up.  "She's got Mom and me."  I can tell that Prim still hasn't forgiven Gale for knocking me up.   I've tried to tell her that he didn't take advantage of me.   But she won't hear it.   My baby sister, normally so sweet and forgiving, is becoming hard.  Like me.   Like I never wanted her to be.

 

"But I need to do right by you, Catnip.  Make sure our baby isn't a bastard," he insists, his tone is pleading.

 

"I've told you I'm not interested, Gale," I repeat for what feels like the millionth time.  "I don't want to get married.  Not to you.  Not to anyone," I add when I see his face start to crumble.   In another life or time, I suppose Gale and I would have ended up married to each other.    But I haven't wanted to get married, not since I was a little girl, not after my father was killed in an explosion in the mines when I was eleven.  

 

Gale's father was killed in the same explosion, something that brought us closer together when we became hunting partners.   Still, ever since that time, ever since I saw my mother withdraw into herself and I was thrust into the role of primary caretaker, I haven't wanted to get married or have children.   I don't have a choice anymore on the having children bit.   But I damn well am going to have a choice on the getting married part.  

 

Gale sits down heavily on a rock and looks at me.  "What do you expect me to do, Katniss?"

 

I sit down next to him and take his hand, Prim frowns at this but I ignore it.  "Honestly?  Nothing.   I don't expect you to do anything.   Neither of us planned this.  Neither of us wanted this."

 

He looks over at me and places a hand on my stomach.   "I did."

 

"Really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

 

He laughs and pulls his hand away.  "Well, not right now.   It's not like I planned this.  I mean it is damned inconvenient what with both of us eligible for the Reaping still.  But yeah, someday I'd thought you'd see what was right before your eyes and then we'd settle down."  He looks at me sadly.  "Have a family."

 

I sighed.  "It wasn't going to happen that way, Gale.  After seeing what so many families go through when their kids die in the Arena, it was never going to happen. "

 

"There's no guarantee that they'll get called," he tries to reason.

 

"And there's no guarantee that won't get called either," I counter.   "And until I could make sure that they will never go into the arena.  That they won't die for the Capitol's enjoyment.  I was never going to get married.  Never going to have kids."  I'm getting angry, well, angrier.   My temper which was never very long to begin with seems to have shortened since becoming pregnant.

 

At this point, Prim steps in.   "I thought we were going to go fishing, Katniss?  We want to have something for the feast afterward."

 

I nod, grateful for an excuse to cut the conversation with Gale short.  "Prim's right.  We've got to get going.   We got a late start."

 

"I can go with you.  Help you out," he offers.  "I've already gotten the game from my snares."

 

"That wouldn't be a good idea," Prim says, drawing herself up to her full height.   "Katniss is teaching me how to be more like her."

 

Gale looks back and forth between Prim and I and shakes his head with visible frustration.   "Just make sure that you don't become too much like her," he says bitterly, turning to walk away.

 

"What did you mean by that?"  I snap.

 

"Nothing," he says without turning around.   "I... it's nothing."  And with those cryptic words he walks away leaving me wondering what he meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written 11/2/2012. Revised 11/27/2012. Written as part of Nanowrimo.
> 
> Beta Read by RoseFyre.
> 
> I am not the happiest with the chapter. It doesn't what it is supposed to but it is mostly expository. I dislike the whole FLASHBACK/END FLASHBACK crutch used in a lot of fanfiction, so you will not see that here.
> 
> I need to state that the views of the characters are not necessarily my own. But Katniss in the books is so very anti-child and marriage I can't say that if she had found out that she was pregnant that she wouldn't consider getting rid of the child. There are several herbal ways to stimulate uterine contractions and a lot of the plants are pretty benign and used in a lot of herbal. I am not listing them here or in the story. I am only aware of them because I do practice a lot of herbal medicine and I've done a lot of study into women's history.
> 
> I look forward to hearing what you think.
> 
> Reviews are the currency of all fanfic authors. It is the only payment that we receive. Please consider taking a few seconds to tell me what you thought. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: There are a few quotes that are taken from chapter one of the hunger games. Mostly Effie's lines.

**Chapter Three**

 

We spend the rest of the morning fishing and picking berries.    Prim manages to find a bunch of yarrow and horsetail growing along the side of the stream and harvests those.   I don't ask what they are used for, since I've learned I really don't want to know.  I can kill and clean an animal with ease but treating a sick human that makes me squeamish.  

 

I take advantage of Prim's gathering to do a little hunting on my own.  I'm able to get a few squirrels and a rabbit before I sense that it's time to head back.   Prim and I haul in our nets.  The catch is pretty abysmal: only four fish.   Almost not worth setting them for, but food is food and you don't turn away food in the Seam. 

 

We secure the results of our morning's labors and head back toward the fence.   As I always do, I caution her to pause and listen to the fence.   Nothing, no buzzing, so we clamber underneath and into the Meadow.   Here we separate, Prim to pick a few flowers and take the food that we aren't going to trade back to our house.  While I'll take the game around to trade. 

 

My first stop is at the Hob, where I head to Greasy Sae's stand.  The old woman has an amazing knack for turning the most humble of meats into a delicious stew.   I remember when I used to be scared of coming to the Hob right after my father's death thinking it was a dangerous and depraved place.   It isn't legal, but the only danger is from the rotten coal dust soaked wood, not the people who frequent it.   I trade my rabbit to Sae unskinned and only field dressed.  I know I could get more if I skinned it and sold the different parts separately, but I also know I need to stay on Sae's good side.   She's the only person who will buy wild dog or the muttation rats from me.    If that means I get a little less for a good sized rabbit than I could somewhere else, I'll do it.   Good will is worth its weight in coin.  

 

She gives me enough for the rabbit that I'll be able to get the lamp oil and string we need as well some left over.   I'll take the rest back for the little stash I am keeping for when the baby comes.    I'm going to need everything  from crib, to clothes, to diapers, to well everything.

 

As if she read my mind, Sae speaks up.  "How far along are ye?"

 

I look up at her startled.  "A little over four months," I answer.

 

She nods.  "I thought so.  You need to be eating more, baby's turning you to skin and bones.  Not that you weren't before."

 

"I know," I say with a grimace.   It's a refrain I hear all the time from my mother, from Prim, from Gale.   I need to eat more.   But it's just not that easy.   If I eat as much as I am supposed to I'm going to be taking food out of Prim's mouth.   And I just can't do that.  

 

"Look, you listen here, girlie.  When you gets to your last few months you come see me with nice pair of beavers or about four good sized rabbits like this one." She holds up the animal I'd just traded for emphasis.  "And I'll trade you my granddaughter's old baby clothes for 'em.   They ain't new but they's better than most of these lot'll have."

 

I nod my head numbly in thanks and turn away.   She's right.   Most of what you can get from the Hob is so worn and patched that it is barely clothing.   Sae 's offer is generous.   Really generous.   Although I know that beaver pelt can be really lucrative especially in the winter and the tail is a considered a delicacy by several of the Peacekeepers.   It's still a good deal.

 

I make the rest of my purchases quickly and take the two squirrels with me into town and the baker's shop.   I knock on the door and hope the baker answers and not the shrew of a woman who is his wife.   I'm in luck because the door opens and the baker greets me with a smile and quickly motions for me to come in.   I step into the bakery and a flood of smells assaults my senses.   Warm rich yeasty bread, rich spicy cakes, cookies, pastries, so many wonderful smells that my mouth begins to water.  

 

Reaching behind him, the baker snags an uniced sugar cookie and hands it to me.  "Here, have this while we work out a price for whatever is in your bag."  I start to protest and he quickly adds.  "It's too burnt for customers."

 

They're not, but I know the man is trying to be nice to me and like everyone else thinks I'm too thin.   "Thank you," I mumble and take a bite, the buttery richness dances across my tongue and I fight to not bolt the cookie like a starving dog.   "I've got two squirrels if you're interested."  I open my bag and pull out the two animals by their bushy tails.  

 

The baker eyes them.  "They look a little scrawny," he starts.  "I can only offer two loaves."

 

I know he's only saying that they are scrawny for the benefit of his wife if she were to happen to walk in.   Two loaves of bread is definitely more than I would have gotten from her and he didn't even specify day old or stale bread so I know what I am going to get is going to be fresh.   I nod, not bothering to haggle.   It's a good deal and I know it.  

 

A smile crosses his features.  "Wonderful!   Which two loaves do you want?" he asks motioning to the cooling racks and I realize that he's giving me even more than I bargained for.  My choice of bread.  

 

Carefully I walk over to the racks and see what they have there.   A rich dark bread that I know has dried fruit and nuts in it catches my eye and I point at it.   The bread has a special significance to me and I always get it when I get a chance.    For my second loaf, I pick something simpler, a nice soda bread I know will taste good with any kind of stew.  

 

The baker smiles at my choices and gets a little paper to wrap them up in.   I accept the wrapped package and I can feel that there is more than just the bread in it.  I look up at him in askance. 

 

He holds a finger to his lips and whispers.   "Shhhh.... It'll be our secret."

 

"Thank you," I say sincerely.  

 

"Just remember me whenever you get your squirrels.   They are better than anything the butcher has," he says.  

 

"I will," I respond and the words are the truth.   I will always bring the baker my squirrels because he is so kind and gives me such a good deal.  

 

My trading finished I walk back to the Seam feeling good about the trades I made.   When I get home, I find that Prim has already cleaned the four fish and is feeding the entrails to her cat.

 

"You're going to make that cat fat," I say by way of greeting.  

 

My sister looks over her shoulder at me.  "He deserves it.  He keeps our house free of vermin." 

 

"I guess," I respond.  I know she's right, he is a good mouser and ratter.   We've even eaten the 'gifts' he's left Prim when we're desperate.  I just don't like the cat and he doesn't like me so we're even. 

 

"What do you have in the bag?" she asks, pointing with her head toward the package of bread from the bakery.  

 

"Wash your hands and I'll show you."

 

Prim stands up and walks into the house and to the kitchen sink.   She pumps water over one of her hands using the elbow of one arm and then using the clean hand to pump water for the dirty one.   I watch her with bemusement since before my pregnancy she would have just asked me for help.  She doesn't do that as much anymore.  

 

When her hands are clean, I place the paper wrapped package on the counter and motion for her to open it.    She does so carefully, preserving the wrapping and string so that it can be reused.    She lifts out the two loves, still slightly warm and sighs when she sees what they were cradling.   "Oh Katniss."

 

I look over and there are three iced cookies each in a little clear baggie to keep them safe.   One is iced with yellow primroses, another katniss flowers, the third tricolor violets.  They were obviously made specifically for each of us.   And I find myself wondering if I shouldn't return them, but seeing the smile on Prim's face I can't bring myself to mention it.    I'll just have to be a little more careful when bartering with him next time to make up for it.  

 

"I didn't know they were in there, Prim.  Honest."

 

She turns to look at me.  "I know.  You never would have gotten them, they're far too extravagant.   But why do you think the baker gave them to us?"

 

I shrug my shoulders.   "I don't know.  Maybe because it's Reaping Day and he wants to be nice.   Or maybe it's a thank you for all of the squirrels I've brought him over the years.  Who knows."

 

"I think it's more of the first.  He likes you, Katniss."

 

"Ewwww!" I say, deliberately misunderstanding her.

 

"Not like that!" she says.  "Like a daughter or something."

 

Thinking about the cookie he gave me when I visited his shop, I think that her theory might have some weight.  "Maybe.   But we should both be getting ready.   It's almost time."

 

"Ugh.   Do you think Effie Trinket will say something different this year?"

 

"And mess with her routine?  Please.   I bet she's got one of those little books and has every minute of her life planned out."

 

Prim takes up the thread.  "Oh you mean like 2:02pm walk up on stage.   2:03pm say 'May the odds be  ever in your favor.'  2:04 say things you don't really mean and so on."

 

"I bet you're right," I say with a laugh.   Effie Trinket is nothing if not predictable.   "Come on let's get going."

 

"What about lunch?"  she asks, looking pointedly at my stomach.

 

I grimace but go over to the bread and cut off the end of the darker loaf.   "Fine, I'll eat you wash up and get dressed then you eat while it's my turn.  That good enough for you?

 

"Yep!"

 

I eat my bread and a few berries from our excursion earlier in the day.  My stomach is churning uncomfortably because I can't stop myself from thinking about the four slips with Prim's name on them.   I've got twenty myself, but I can't help feeling like Prim should only have one.   It makes me worry. 

 

Prim comes back and I absently tuck the back of her shirt in.  "You've got a tail sticking out, little duck."

 

She sticks her tongue out at me but leaves me to get ready.    I see that my mother has laid out one of her old dresses for me.  It probably once was the color of her namesake, the violet, but now it's faded to more of a periwinkle shade.   That's fine with me, it's the fit that matters more and this dress is roomy enough that the unmistakable curve of my belly will be hidden.   I appreciate the kindness.   I haven't gone around announcing my pregnancy to the world, but the whispers and rumors have already started.    I'd like to get through the Reaping before they become shouts.  

 

Now dressed, I walk back out into the main room to find that my mother has joined Prim at the table.   She's braiding my sister's hair and looks up at me with a tired smile.   "That dress looks good on you."

 

"Thanks for putting it out for me," I reply.  

 

She motions to one of the chairs with one hand.   "Take a seat and I'll do your hair, we have time."

 

I nod and sit down next to my sister.  My mother finishes with Prim's braids and starts in on my hair.   I think about how dissimilar Prim and I look.  My sister is fair-haired with blue eyes like my mother.  Like most of the merchants in Twelve.   Me, I have more of the Seam look.  Black hair, grey eyes, olive skin.   I look like my father and I know that hurts my mother, she still misses him even after all of these years.   Part of me feels bad that I'm a reminder of what she's lost.  But a bigger part of me wants her to be hurt, I'm still angry at her for abandoning Prim and me after our father died.    She was present in body but not in any other way.   It took an act of kindness and luck to keep us from starving before I turned twelve and could take out tesserae.  

 

Thinking of acts of kindness, I mention the cookies that the baker sent home with me.

 

"Matz is a good man.   Not as good as your father.   But a good man,"  I can hear the smile in her voice.   She knew the baker from before she married my father, I know.  As the daughter of the town apothecary, my mother knew all of the merchant kids.  

 

I nod and wince as my unconscious head motion yanks the comb through my hair.    "He seems nice.   Not like that shrew of a woman he married."

 

My mother makes a non-committal noise and continues styling my hair.    After a few moments she pats the sides of my head and announces she is done.   I check my features in the mirror and note that I look almost pretty with my hair done up in the intricate braids that my mother has plaited. 

 

"Thank you," I say.

 

"You're welcome.  Now we should get going."

 

I glance at the old wind up clock and notice it is one o'clock.  Definitely time to go, we don't want a visit from the Peacekeepers later tonight.  Unless you are dead or dying, all eligible children between the ages of twelve and eighteen must report to the designated meeting point which in District Twelve is the town square.   If you don't, you and your family can be whipped, fined, or worse.  

 

We get there and I help Prim go to the right line to check in before getting in line myself.   I take my place in the line for the sixteen year olds watching Prim join the line for the twelve year olds.   She has a little tail of shirt sticking out of her skirt and that makes me smile.   Prim can never keep that tucked in no matter how hard she tries.  It's one of the things that endears my sister to me.   I want to go over there and tuck it back in before the Reaping but I know I don't have time.

 

The female Peacekeeper seated at the table calls out "Next" and I realize that I am at the head of the line.   I step up and hold out my hand for them to prick my finger for the identity confirming blood drop.   "Katniss Everdeen?"  the Peacekeeper asks.

 

"That's me."

 

She glances down at the little screen in front of her.  "Your blood is a little different than last year.  Can you explain that?"  I know she's asking if I've had someone take my place.  It's been tried in the past with people using fake skin and little caches of blood underneath them.   It never works. 

 

I sigh and pull my mother's periwinkle dress flat against my stomach showing my baby bump to the woman.  For a moment, she looks shocked then the features become sympathetic.   It isn't normal to get pregnant girls going up to be Reaped.   It isn't impossible but it is rare.  The last time I know of it happening was about ten or so years ago.  Most under eighteen kids celebrate after the Reaping, not before.   I just have to be different, I guess.  

 

"May the odds be in your favor, Katniss Everdeen," the woman says after a moment and I take the words  for what they really are.  A sincere wish that I won't get Reaped.  

 

I join the rest of the waiting sixteen year olds and glance around.  I can see Gale's tall figure standing out among the eighteen year old boys section and I crane my neck to see Prim.   There she is, next to the florist's girl, Amaranth.   She looks okay but worried.   Who isn't?

 

I feel someone take my hand and give it a squeeze and I turn to see the mayor's daughter and one of my few friends, Madge Undersee.   "Hey," I greet. 

 

She's wearing an obviously new dress with a little gold mockingjay brooch pinned to one shoulder.  "Hello.   Fancy meeting you here," she jokes as if I'd be anywhere else.   

 

"Likewise," I smile at her.  

 

She continues in an exaggerated Capitol accent.  "I mean I was shocked, I say, shocked, to see you here with all of the common rabble." She glances around at other girls who are for the most part giving the two of us a wide berth.   A few Seam girls and Delly Cartwright who is the nicest girl ever aren't.   But the rest of the merchants' daughters are staring at me as if I were something slimy that crawled out of a pond.  

 

"I'm slumming it," I say in my best imitation of the Capitol accent and then let out a little laugh.   Madge is a good friend, one of the few girls who didn't start to whisper when it became clearer that I was pregnant and not just putting on weight.  

 

We've been eating lunch together at school for years now.  Me the Seam outcast who no one likes and her the daughter of the mayor who everyone is a little afraid of.   It was a friendship built out of loneliness.  

 

The clock on the Justice Building strikes two and the square quiets down.   The Mayor offers his arm to the District Twelve escort Effie Trinket as they walk up the steps and onto the constructed stage.   The sound of her heels echoes through the square and I fight to keep my eyes forward on the stage.   The Mayor escorts her to her chair and then walks up to the podium.   Clearing his throat, he starts to read the history of Panem.   It's the same story every year and I struggle to keep my focus.   My bladder is starting to send out warning signals and I shift uncomfortably.  

 

A disruption catches my eye on the edge of the stage and I see the lone living District Twelve winner of the Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy, stumble up onto it.    He lurches to his chair and flops half on to it and half onto Effie Trinket.   He flings his arms around her and tries to cuddle her to his chest like an overgrown stuffed animal while she attempts to fend him off.   Finally she succeeds and he slumps into the chair limply and lets out a loud burp that is picked up by the microphones on stage and out into the square.  

 

Effie Trinket gathers herself together and pats her wig which is now slightly askew and tiptoes up to the podium.   "Happy Hunger Games!   And may the odds be ever in your favor."  She babbles about inconsequential things while the rest of us in the square wait nervously for her to get to the selection.   My eyes wander to the two glass bowls with their slips of paper in them.  In there are four slips that read Primrose Everdeen and twenty that read my name, still it could be worse.    I glance over to Gale and his eyes catch mine, he's got forty two slips in the boys' bowl.  More than me.   More than pretty much everyone else in the square. Still, there are thousands of slips.  

 

Effie Trinket finally finishes her inane commentary because she says, "And now the moment you've all been waiting for.    Ladies first!"  She trots over to the glass ball with the girls' names in it and puts one gloved and ringed hand into the bowl and reaches around for a few seconds.   She pulls out a slip and the air seems to still.   I start chanting 'not Prim, not Prim, not Prim' in my head.   

 

Effie Trinket minces back to the podium and opens the paper with a big flourish.  In a clear voice, she reads the name and it's not Prim's.

 

It's mine.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Initially published on 11/3/2012. Revised 6/12/2013.
> 
> Betaread by RoseFyre.
> 
> I named Katniss' mom and Peeta's dad very deliberately. If you didn't guess, Katniss mom is named Violet. Violets are used in herbal medicine for various ailments including cough syrup, sore throats, skin conditions, urinary problems, and insect stings. Matz is short for Matzo/Matzah and is a kind of unleavened bread eaten by Jewish people during Passover. Because of the nature of this story, they needed names. Other 'unnamed' people will be getting names in this fic and there are going to be some OCs, they are necessary, but if I can use a canon character I will.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 

I stand there for a moment dumbstruck.   I can feel the girls around me, except for Madge,  start to pull away like I am a leper.

 

"Katniss Everdeen?   Are you here?"  Effie Trinket reads out again.

 

Madge presses closer to me, grabbing one of my hands and slipping something hard and cold into it.   "You've got to go.   You don't want to be dragged up not like Ember last year."

 

The reminder that the Peacekeepers will drag tributes up kicking and screaming is enough to galvanize me into action.   I'm already going to be humiliated going up there, I don't want to completely ruin my chances for sponsors by crying and carrying on.   After all, the Games isn't just about killing the other tributes it's about surviving the arena and survival is something I'm good at.   Then reality sets in.   Maybe I'd have had a chance if I weren't pregnant, but already I'm losing my agility and it's just going to get worse from here.   

 

I walk slowly up to the stage.   As I pass the twelve year old section, I hear Prim let out a pathetic, "No."

 

I shake my head at her warning her not to do anything stupid and continue walking.   I mount the stage and note that the wind is blowing down through the square and on to it.    I cross to where Effie Trinket is standing, tapping one foot impatiently.

 

"Ah here you are, my dear.   Aren't you pretty?" she gushes.   "Now stand over there, facing the crowd."

 

I do as I am told and the wind flattens the front of my dress up against me, outlining everything.  My legs, breasts, everything.  

 

"Oh!  I see we have a bun in the oven,"  Effie Trinket coos.  She bends down to babble at my stomach.   "Maybe your Mommy will win the games and you will have everything you ever wanted."

 

I raise an eyebrow at the District Twelve escort like she is mad.   How in the world does she think I'm going to win?   I'm going to be lucky to make it past the bloodbath.    I blink back tears.   This is not how I wanted my life to go.  

 

Effie Trinket straightens.  "Well, the show must go on.   Do we have any volunteers to take Miss Everdeen's place?"

 

The crowd is silent like it is every year.   This doesn't surprise me.  Not once in the history of the Hunger Games has there been a volunteer from District Twelve.   I don't blame the people.  They are just scared.   So am I.

 

Then from near the front of the corralled children, a small voice calls out.  "I volunteer as tribute."

 

My heart drops as I recognize the voice.  The crowd seems to shift and move and I see my little sister walking forward with a determined look on her face.  

 

"Prim, no!  Don't!"  I cry out  but it's too late.  She's said the words, there are no take backs in the Hunger Games. 

 

Beside me, I hear Effie Trinket gasp and I know it's because of Prim's age.   Even in other districts, twelve year olds never volunteer and there's a good reason for that.  According to our history books, the youngest ever winner of the Hunger Games was Finnick Odair from District Four at the age of fourteen.   No twelve or thirteen year olds have won, ever.   They rarely make it to the final twelve.   Now here is my baby sister volunteering to take my place knowing the odds are stacked against her.  

 

Prim climbs up onto the stage, her head held high and her jaw clenched.   I can see she's struggling to hold back tears and I am proud that she is able to do so.   Don't let them see you cry, I think.   Don't let them think you're weak.  

 

She comes up to stand next to me facing out toward the crowd.    I know it's my cue to get off of the stage.  

 

Instead, I kneel down and enfold her in my arms.   "You didn't have to do this, Prim.  I would have been okay," I lie.  

 

"No, you wouldn't," she says in a thick voice.   "And I'm not just doing it for you.  I'm doing it for the baby."

 

"I know," I whisper.  "I'm so sorry."

 

"It's not your fault.  But do me a favor."

 

"Of course."

 

"Punch Gale for me."

 

I manage to smile at her request and give her another hug.   I hear Effie Trinket clear her throat behind me and I realize I am holding up the ceremony.   I scramble down off of the stage and into my mother's arms.    She's crying and for some reason I am unable to stop myself from joining her.   

 

"What's your name?"  Effie Trinket asks my little sister.

 

"Primrose Everdeen."

 

"Oh my.  I bet that girl was your sister wasn't she?"

 

"Yes."  Prim glances up at Effie an expression of incredulousness on her face.

 

I stop crying to snort at Effie Trinket's obviousness.    Of course she's my sister, even though we don't look a thing alike.   There aren't enough of us here in Twelve to have repeating names like they do in some of the larger districts.    So if you find someone with a same last name it is pretty much a given that they are related in some way to anyone else with the same last name.

 

Effie Trinket continues on blithely.   "I see, you must be rivals.  Don't want her taking all of the glory."  Prim gives her another look but manages to hold her tongue which is what Effie Trinket wanted anyway.   "Ladies and Gentlemen I give you your female tribute.  Primrose Everdeen!"

 

To my shock and approval no one claps.  They know why Prim volunteered and it isn't because of any Capitol delusions of grandeur.   They know she sacrificed herself so my baby and I could live.   Simple as that.   From around the square, I see a few people then more place their three fingers to their lips and then hold them up before them.  It's an old salute of respect from District Twelve.  From before the Dark Days.   Possibly from before the Cataclysm that created Panem.  

 

It's the most profound gesture of respect we can give and I force myself to not start crying again.   I hate how the pregnancy hormones make me blubber like a baby at the slightest thing.   I never used to get teary.   Now three times in one day.   It's embarrassing. 

 

Effie Trinket looks nonplussed at the response for a few moments then recovers quickly.   "Well, now it's time for the gentlemen."   She minces over to the other glass bowl and sticks her hand in and swishes it around.    She pulls out a slip and goes back to the podium.   She opens it and smoothes the creases out of the paper. 

 

"Peeta Mellark!" she reads and my heart drops for a second time.

 

Peeta is the son of the baker that is so nice to me and my family.    And more than that, I owe him my life.   I clench my hands tighter and feel the object that Madge gave me dig into my hand painfully.  

 

I open my fist to see the gold mockingjay pin there.   It's now dug an impression into my flesh and I can see the outline of the bird's wings in flight.   I place the pin in my pocket to give back to my friend.    I know she meant it for me for a good luck charm and I suppose it worked.   I'm not going into the Games, but my sister is.

 

Peeta has made his way up on to the stage and I can see he's in shock but trying to keep it together.   He's a merchant kid and probably only had five slips in there.   The odds weren't in his favor either.   He gets up to his spot and Effie Trinket asks for volunteers.   He's got two older brothers and one of them, Bing I think, is too old to participate in the reaping.  But his middle brother, Farl, is seventeen and could volunteer to take his younger brother's place.  

  
But he doesn't and Effie Trinket introduces the two of them as District Twelve's tributes for the Seventy Fourth Annual Hunger Games.  The mayor gets up to read the Treaty of Treason but is interrupted by Haymitch Abernathy realizing that something momentous has gone on around him.  

 

"What's this?   We got a brother and sister going into the Games?" he slurs out drunkenly.   "Ain't none of you got any respect?   What kind of sheep are you?"  He points accusingly at the crowd.    Then he turns and wildly gesticulates at Prim.   "She's got honor.   Volunteering for her knocked up sister.   She's got honor!    Not like any of you!   Not like you!"  he points at the cameras angrily and lurches forward, right off the edge of the stage.  

 

A few Peacekeepers nudge him with the butts of their weapons, but Haymitch is knocked out cold.    They shrug and go back to standing at attention.  

 

It's almost laughable watching Haymitch Abernathy go off like that.   I can see where people would be confused about Peeta and Prim.  They do look alike, both blond, blue eyed, and fair skinned.    But that is where the similarity ends.   Prim is tiny, delicate like the flower she is named after.   Peeta is stocky and solid.   His arms bulge underneath his shirt.   I know he's strong, he's the second best wrestler in the district after his brother.   He's also able to pick up hundred pound bags of flour with ease.   No, other than coloring, the two are nothing alike.   Peeta stands a chance in the Arena.  Prim doesn't.

 

Effie Trinket's mouth is pursed in annoyance.  I know she is dying to get another district where the Victors aren't drunk, rambling, slobs.   Where the tributes actually stand a chance.   But she's the newest escort and thus low man on the ladder.   She's got to wait for District Twelve to start doing well or someone to die before she can move up.   Right now, I can tell she thinks it's going to be the latter.  

 

The mayor clears his throat and starts to read the Treaty of Treason and I turn away with a mumbled apology to my mother.   I need to find an outhouse or something.   I look around and notice a small door leading into the Justice Building.  It's the door they usher the tributes through every year.   It's guarded, of course.  But it's the same team of Peacekeepers that checked me in. 

 

"No entry," the male one says gruffly.  I can tell he's new because his uniform still has the white sheen to it.  The longer term Peacekeepers have grayish uniforms thanks to all of the coal dust in the air.  

 

The woman looks over at me.   "What do you need, Katniss Everdeen?"

 

I glance at her and then shift uncomfortably trying to convey without words what I need.

 

 Understanding lights her eyes and she nods.   "Go on, girl.   First door on the left."  She opens the door for me.

 

"Wait a minute," her partner protests.   "No visitors until after the ceremony."

 

The older woman rolls her eyes.  "Boy, you ever been pregnant?"

 

"Of course not!" the man sputters.  

 

"Then shut your gob.   This girl here is about to piss her pants and unless you want her to do it right over your nice shiny boots you'd better stand aside."

 

"She should have thought of that earlier," he insists stubbornly, making a motion to pull the door closed.

 

The woman sighs and mutters under her breath, "Men!"   She steps around him and pushes the door open wider.   "Go on.  I'll keep an on you and him.  Make sure you aren't bothered and don't wander off."

 

"Thank you," I whisper and dart inside, I glance at her name tag:  Phyllis Gneiss. 

 

"I've been pregnant myself.   Couldn't go ten minutes toward the end."

 

I grimace; just one more thing to look forward to.   I nod to Peacekeeper Gneiss and go through the door.   Once there, I sit down on the cold ceramic toilet and start to cry in earnest.   

 

How am I going to get through this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Initially Written 11/3/12  
> Revised 6/9/13  
> Betareader - RoseFyre
> 
> This is not one of my favorite chapters but I needed to get through it. 
> 
> A few more previously unnamed characters got named. Namely Peeta's brothers. For those wondering, Bing is a kind of flatbread made in China and Farl is a kind of Irish flatbread. It goes along with Peeta's flatbread inspiration.
> 
> The Peacekeeper, Gneiss is my own creation, mostly because we only get three named ones in District Twelve ever. Gneiss is a metamorphic rock that is typically evolved from igneous rocks like granite and diorite. It is used in many kinds of construction in the same kind of way granite is. It is distinguishable from granite in that it has distinct bands on it. It is also pronounced like "Nice" which is me doing a horrible pun since Gneiss is the nice Peacekeeper. And now I'll stop boring you.
> 
> Reviews are the currency of fanfiction writers, they are the only payment we receive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 

I hear the anthem play through the walls of the Justice Building and finish up my business.  I wash my face to clear off any tear tracks and vow that I will do no more crying today.   It's a vow I hope I can keep.  

 

I open the door and step back outside.  A grateful nod to Peacekeeper Gneiss and as respectful of one to her partner.   I know that as soon as the anthem finishes, the tributes will be taken into the Justice Building for the one hour they are allowed to have their family and friends say good bye to them.   I don't plan to miss a second of my time with Prim.  

 

The Peacekeepers hustle the tributes off of the stage and into the Justice Building.   My mother, the Mellarks and I are held back for several minutes before we are finally  waved into the building.   Inside a Peacekeeper, Darius, asks us which tribute we are here to see.   It's just a formality, he knows who each person is there to see.   He's a regular of the Hob and one of the few Peacekeepers I don't really mind.   He's cordial to us and unlike the head, Cray, doesn't take poor starving girls to his bed for the price of a loaf of bread.  

 

My mother and I go into the richly decorated room that they are keeping Prim in and my sister flies into my arms.   The vow I made earlier almost becomes undone but I manage to not start bawling.  I hold Prim in my arms for several moments silently.  Then I feel another pair of arms snake around the two of us.    The three of us stand there for a long while just holding each other and not talking. 

 

I feel my sister start to pull back so I let her go.   She steps back and looks up at me.  "Don't give me a lecture, Katniss, about how I shouldn't have volunteered.   I'm not sorry I did it."  Her eyes are defiant and she's jutted her jaw forward like she's ready for a fight.  

 

I'm not going to give it to her.   "I know you're not sorry.   If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't be sorry either.   I just feel like this is all my fault."

 

"It's not!"  Prim protests.  "It's just bad luck, I mean why would the Capitol rig the election just to get you?  They wouldn't."  She pauses.   "Besides.  I still want you to punch Gale for me."

 

I can't keep my laugh in.   The way she says it, all petulant and pouting, it reminds me of the old Prim and how she used to do that to get her way.

 

"I'll try.  But in return, I want you to do something for me."

 

She looks over at me.   "You'd better not say 'Win.'"

 

It was what I was going to say, but seeing the expression on her face I change the words at the last minute.   "Make them love you.  Make them regret sending you in there to die."

 

She knows that the 'them' I'm referring to is the Capitol even though I can't say it outright.   For all I know, there are cameras watching us now.   "I'll try," she echoes my words from earlier and I can see that she will.    Prim is loveable.   If anyone can do it, she can.  

 

There's a knock at the door and my mother goes to answer it.    Standing there with clear tear tracks down his cheeks is Mr. Mellark, the baker, Peeta's dad.    He walks into the room with a nod to my mother.   

 

Looking over to me and Prim he says, "He'd like to see you."

 

I'm confused for a moment thinking he means Prim.   Why would he want to see her he's going to be seeing her on the train and in the Capitol,  Then it hits me, he means me.  "Why?" I blurt out.  

 

He shrugs his shoulders.   "I don't know.   He just asked to see you.   Would you, please?"  I can see he's close to tears and I can't help but feel sorry for the man.  He obviously loves his son and he knows that his son has about as much chance in the arena as Prim does, as anyone from Twelve does to be honest.  

 

I nod and give Prim one last hug.   "I love you," I whisper into her hair.   

 

"Love you, too," she whispers back and I force back the tears that threaten again.  

 

I pull away before the dam bursts and walk out into the hall.  There's another set of Peacekeepers stationed by a door and I assume that is where Peeta is.  They take my name and I knock on the door.   

 

"Come in," a voice calls from the other side and I do.

 

Peeta Mellark is standing in the middle of the room watching the door expectantly.   I can see a flash of something cross his face before he tamps it down into a more neutral expression.   "Hi," he says.

 

"Hi," I reply, closing the door behind me.

 

He takes a step forward.  "You came.  I wasn't sure if you would."

 

I shift nervously by my place at the door and look down at my feet.  "Well, your father asked me and I owe you."

 

"You don't owe me anything," he says emphatically. 

 

My eyes fly to his.   "Yes, I do!" I shout and the tears I've been holding back spill down my cheeks.  "I owe you my life and now I can never pay it back."  The guilt is eating me up inside and I feel sick. 

 

He takes another step forward, his hands outstretched like he wants to give me a hug, then he seems to decide against it and takes a half step back.   "Katniss, you don't owe me anything," he repeats.  "I wanted to give you that bread."

 

My mouth drops open in surprise and I reach up to dry my tears.   "You did that on purpose.  Why?"  I honestly want to know.  I'd long suspected that he'd burned that bread on purpose, but now with him pretty much saying it I wanted, no, needed to understand why.   He didn't know me, why would he help a starving girl out in the rain, getting beaten in the process.

 

He laughs and rubs the back of his head.  "I would have thought it would be obvious.   I guess not."  He changes the subject before I can ask him what he means.   "I'm going to make sure she comes home, Katniss," he says softly.

 

"What?"  I can't believe what I'm hearing.  

 

He straightens.  "I'm going to make sure Prim comes home," Peeta says again.  He catches my gaze and holds it. "I'll do everything I can to make sure that happens."

 

I'm confused and I know it shows on my face.  "But that means..."   I can't say the words.   I can't grasp that Peeta is willing to throw his life away for Prim.   I mean I would, but she's my sister.  He barely knows us.

 

He smiles at me.  "I'm okay with dying.  I really am.   So long as it is on my terms.  And if my death means that I can send your sister home to you alive, then I'm happy."

 

"Thank you," I say in a whisper.   I don't know what else to say.  What do you say to the boy who saved your life when you were eleven and now is saying he's going to try to save your sister's?  The words hardly seem adequate.  

 

"I do have a favor to ask, though," he says.  I can see the tips of his ears become flushed.

 

"What?" I can't keep the suspicion out of my voice. 

 

"Do you think I could hug you?  Just once?"

 

My brow wrinkles.   It's not what I was expecting.   I'm not sure what I was expecting, but that was not it.   "I suppose?"

 

He crosses to me, opens his arms, and waits.  I glance up at him and there's a patient but hopeful expression on his face.   I can see that he's not going to force me into anything, that I'm going to have to be the one to make the final move.   I appreciate that he's letting it be my choice.  

 

I close the distance and slip my arms around him and his arms wrap around me.   He rests his head against my shoulder and I can feel a few drops of wetness.   My heart goes out to him.  He's like Prim, trying to be brave and put on a good face, but deep down he's a scared kid being sent to the Capitol to die.  I tighten my embrace and lightly stroke his back to try to comfort him.  In that moment, it doesn't matter that we are virtual strangers.   We both need this. 

 

We stand like that for several minutes and I begin to get antsy.   Peeta seems to sense this and pulls away.    "Thank you."

 

"I should be the one thanking you."  I remember Madge's pin in my pocket and I pull it out.  "Here, take this.   For your district token."

 

He shakes his head.   "No, I can't."

 

"Please, let me give you something to make up for everything you've done for me and are going to do for Prim."

 

He takes the brooch and pins it onto his shirt.   "Thank you.   You didn't have to.   You don't know just how much it means to me to see you before I go."

 

His words confuse me and he must see it on my face because he goes.   "It's okay, Katniss.  I don't expect you to understand."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"Nothing.   Let's just say that for all that you're a brilliant hunter, you can be really unobservant at times."

 

I'm starting to get angry.   "Look, I didn't come in here for this."

 

Peeta sighs.  "I know you didn't.  I just..." he trails off and looks at me for a few moments.   He seems to come to a decision.  

 

"You just what?"

 

He doesn't answer me but dips his head to give me a quick kiss on the mouth.  It's short and soft and the whole thing confuses me.  He pulls back.  "I've been wanting to do that for ages."

 

But before I can get any words out to ask him what he means a Peacekeeper comes in and tells us that our time is up.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Initially Published 11/9/12
> 
> Revised 6/15/13
> 
> Beta read by Rosefyre,
> 
> A good part of this chapter I've had planned in my head from the moment I started thinking of this story back in March of 2012. Seriously months. Dreamed about it. Talked about it with friends. Obsessed over it. One guess as to what part. ^_^   
> Up next, Katniss makes a plan and the Tributes are introduced.
> 
> Please Review!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Prim and Peeta are escorted to a car containing Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket to be taken to the train station. Knowing that this is the last time I am likely to see either of them alive, I wave with everything I have. I'm confused about Peeta's kiss and his comments. I'm worried about Prim, but more hopeful about her chances than I was an hour ago. I don't know if I should trust Peeta, again I barely know him, but something inside of me tells me that he was speaking the truth. He will do his best to protect my sister, even if it means sacrificing his own life. 

When the car is no longer in sight, my mother and I start the long walk back to our house in the Seam. Mandatory Viewing is at seven and they will show all of the Reapings from across the country. Part of me wants to see who Prim's competition is going to be this year, but a larger part of me doesn't. I know that in order for Prim to come home, all of the rest of them are going to have to die. 

We round the corner of a shop and I see Gale leaning against the faded green railing waiting. It's obvious that he is waiting for us because he straightens up when he sees us. 

When we reach him, he steps over to us. "Mind if I borrow Katniss for a moment, Mrs. Everdeen?" he asks my mother. 

My mother glances at me to see what I think and I shrug. "That's fine, Gale," she says. "Just make sure you get her home in time for supper."

"I will, ma'am."

My mother walks away, leaving me standing with Gale in the middle of the street. "What do you want, Gale?" My tone comes out harsher than I intended but I don't apologize. 

"I was thinking, Katniss, that Prim's not going to get much in the way of sponsorship money."

"Tell me something I don't know," I snap. The Capitol never bets on the twelve year olds. They never win. 

"Maybe we can do something about that," he pushes. "Everyone here loves Prim. Maybe we can gather up enough money to send her something."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Now don't take this the wrong way, but your sister isn't a killer."

"I know."

"So that means sending her a weapon is right out. She wouldn't do very well with it and it'd just get her killed. No, her best chance is to hide and try to outlast the rest of the contestants and to do that she's going to have to survive."

I begin to see where Gale is going with this. "Peeta said he'd protect her and make sure that she came home."

"Can you trust him, Catnip?"

I look up at Gale. "I think so, Gale. He said that he'd be willing to die for her, that he'd do anything to protect her. I don't think he'd lie about that, I mean, what would he have to gain?"

The same flash of something crosses Gale's face as crossed Peeta's face when I walked into that richly apportioned room less than an hour ago and I still don't know what it means. "No, he wouldn't have anything to gain. Nothing at all." Gale's voice sounds a little hollow. Then he seems to collect himself. "If he's willing to protect her, that makes our life easier. We just need to figure out what they need most and send it to them, preferably earlier in the Games before the prices go up too much."

I nod. "We should make a list and try to find out how much things will cost."

Gale shakes his head. "No, before we do that. We need to make money. Lots of it and fast. Do you have any?" he asks.

"A little. I was saving it for when the baby came."

He nods. "We can worry about that later. We've got time and I'll help you with baby expenses. You may not want to marry me, but I still want to be a part of our child's life."

"I know, Gale. I want you to be a part of it too. I just..."

"I know. Marriage isn't for you. I'm starting to get that now. You know what I thought when I heard your name called was how much I wished I could volunteer to take your place and then Prim went up and all I felt was relief. Relief that you weren't going to die and our child was going to be born."

I know where he's going with this. "But then you started to feel guilty."

"Yeah," he says with a nod. "While I was waiting for you, I began to understand what you were saying. Imagining what it had to be like for your mother, for the baker, to see their kids up there knowing that they likely are never going to come home. I don't want that for our child, Katniss."

"So what do you plan to do about it?" I ask.

"I don't know," he admits. "Right now, we need to focus on getting Prim home. Then we can figure out the rest."

I nod. "I should go," I say. "I'm hungry and I want to try to eat before Mandatory Viewing."

"I'll walk you home," he replies then looks me over. "I like your dress. You look really pretty in it."

"I look pregnant in it," I counter.

"Yeah, no hiding that. But you still look good. Although you should really eat more."

I sigh. "Everyone keeps saying that! What do they want me to do? Stuff my face constantly?"

"Probably," Gale agrees then changes the subject back to Prim. "What kind of Arena do you think they're going to have this year?"

"I think we can rule out snowfields," I reply. "After those Games a few years ago where everyone froze I don't think they'd do that again."

"We can probably rule out deserts for the same reason. Remember the Sixty Ninth Games? Most of the tributes that didn't die at the bloodbath died of dehydration."

"What's that leave us? Prairies, forests, mountains, swamps, caves, jungles, seasides, hills." I tick each of the options off on my fingers. 

"Don't forget urban," Gale reminds me. 

"I didn't," I retort. There are ruined cities from pre-Cataclysm days all over Panem. Most of them have crumbled into rubble but in a few you can see the remnants of the flourishing civilization that came before. "But they just used that last year. They aren't going to go back to the same type of Arena two years in a row." 

Gale nods. "Good point. And by that token prairies are out too, since they did them the year before that. You know, they're probably going to do forests or jungles. Those are popular and they're easy to do. Most of the games are in forests or jungles with a little variety thrown in for good measure."

"Like the dam break in the Seventieth Games?"

"Like that. Speaking of how good of a swimmer is Prim?"

I think about it for a moment. Our father taught the two of us, but since he died when she was seven she didn't get much past the basics. "She can keep herself afloat," I answer. "But other than that, she's not that strong of a swimmer."

"Then we'd better hope that whatever Arena she's in isn't a water based one."

"Yeah."

We get to my home, and I can see my mother through the window making dinner. Good, she's not catatonic like she was after my father's death. I don't know if I could deal with that.

Gale gives me a quick hug. "We'll get her back, Catnip. I promise." Then he releases me to walk back to the house he shares with his mother and three younger siblings. 

My mother greets me when I walk in and places a slice of bread in front of me. "Eat."

I do and find the simple task of chewing and swallowing to be a good foil for my racing thoughts. Gale was right, they likely were going to use a jungle or forest arena and that was good for Prim. She's small, she could climb trees easily and the trees would be able to hide her small frame. If by chance, she ended up in a forested Arena she stood an even better chance because of the little teaching I had been able to do with her. She could hunt, badly, but even better, she knew how to set snares. If the water source had fish in it, she might be able to make a net or something to catch fish. She knew plants better than I did, I had to admit, which would serve her well in the Arena. No, a forested Arena would be perfect if only we were so lucky. 

I look up when my mother sets a bowl of fish stew in front of me and I realize that I have been sitting there for a while lost in thought. We eat in silence neither of us sure of what to say. That suits me just fine, what are we supposed to talk about? My mother gives me another slice of bread to dip into my stew and places the cookie with katniss flowers on it beside my plate. 

Seeing the cookie reminds me of Peeta. What skills does he have? I know he's strong and he can wrestle. Both of those are good in the Arena, but does he know how to use weapons? Hunt? Build fires? I figure he likely knows how to do the latter considering he worked at a bakery, but the rest? He's a merchant kid and unlike the Careers in Districts One, Two, and Four he hasn't trained to be a deadly killing machine. Hopefully he'll be able to keep his promise to protect Prim but the odds aren't in his favor. The odds aren't in anyone's favor in the Arena. 

We finish our dinner and clean up and I take the time to change out of my mother's dress. I likely will have to start wearing it or something like it in the near future as my stomach expands but for now I want the welcome familiarity of my own clothes. When I finish changing, I take care of any personal business. I finish just in time for the Reaping Recaps to start.

Right at seven, the old television flashes to life and Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith's faces appear on the screen. 

"Happy Hunger Games," Caesar says with a smile. This year his hair and suit are blue. Last year they were mauve. I think the blue looks better on him. 

"And may the odds be ever in your favor," Claudius says. He's fairly tame compared to Caesar, but the heavily made up face and riotous orange wig still proclaim louder than any words that he's from the Capitol.

"Let's get to the Reapings, shall we?" Caesar asks.

"Oh my, yes! I can hardly wait! I could positively piddle myself in anticipation."

"Well let's not keep you waiting!"

The banter annoys me, it's the same every year. Last year Claudius was quivering in his seat. I bet he doesn't know what it's like to really quiver. 

The screen changes and the crest of District One comes up. Their Reaping is pretty standard for a Career district. Two names are called and then two people from the eighteen year old section volunteer. The boy, Marvel, is handsome as always. And the girl, Glimmer, is gorgeous. She looks familiar but it takes Caesar Flickerman to tell me why.

"Oh look! It's a legacy tribute. As most of you will remember, Glimmer here is the daughter of Striker Diamante, winner of the Fifty Third Hunger Games. "

"Oh yes! And what a Games those were, we can expect a lot from this little lady."

District Two is up next. The boys are drawn first and a great hulk of a boy charges forward to volunteer before the escort can even ask for volunteers. 

"It looks like Cato Gladius is eager to get into the Games," Claudius comments. 

"Indeed," Caesar agrees. 

The girls are up next and a Clove Miner is called. Almost as one, the girls around her part to reveal a small girl for a Career district who is looking around in confusion. The Peacekeepers come forward to escort her up to the stage and she turns to stare accusingly at a red-headed girl in the eighteen year old section. The red-headed girl smirks and crosses her arms over her chest. It's clear to me that Clove wasn't supposed to be in the Games this year, that this other girl was supposed to volunteer, but something odd is going on. It doesn't become clear to me until they do a cut to the stage where Cato is standing there with a stricken expression on his face. He hides it quickly, but the damage is done. There is something up between him and Clove. Probably romantic if I had to guess and that didn't make Clove popular with the other female Careers. I can see where they might think Cato was handsome. I would too, if it weren't so obvious that he is eager for violence. 

Thankfully Caesar and Claudius don't dawdle on them and move quickly on to District Three. Their tributes Radi and Axel are unremarkable. As are the volunteers from District Four, Coral and Reef. District Five stands out a little more. Only because of the female tribute, Uranium. She's got a sly pleased look on her face as she mounts the stairs almost like a fox who got into the henhouse. Her district partner, Coil, isn't much. District Six's tributes are also nothing much to talk about. When the girl, Grata, is called, she promptly bursts into tears and has to be dragged kicking and screaming onto the stage. The boy, Ford, is more stoic but it's clear that he's sure he's going to die because he's shaking the entire time he's on stage. 

Caesar and Claudius have more to say about District Seven. Elm is seventeen, strong, and a definite threat. But Caesar and Claudius aren't able to stop talking about his district partner, Tacoma. Not only is she gorgeous with short blonde hair, but she's also clearly a powerful contender. Her muscles are clearly defined under the thin summer dress that she's wearing and she mounts the stage proudly with no tears in her eyes. 

District Eight is one of those that they always seem to skim over. The tributes Taylor and Taylor aren't spectacular and Claudius opines that there always seems to be a Taylor every few years in the Games from District Eight. District Nine gets much the same treatment with Ceres and Jace barely getting any mention. The commentators dawdle a little longer on District Ten mostly because the boy, Clint, has a lame foot. No one likes it when someone with an obvious disability is reaped into the Games, least of all the Capitol. The girl, Piper, is unremarkable and the two hosts move quickly on to District Eleven. Here they pause because the two tributes are interesting for vastly different reasons. The girl, Rue, reminds me of Prim not just because of the obvious similarity in their age but also in their demeanor. I can see that Rue is struggling to be strong and to not give the Capitol any reason to doubt her ability. Then Claudius and Caesar get all excited about her district partner, Thresh, and I can see why. If Cato and Elm are big then Thresh is a mountain. He's easily the largest of all of the tributes and he towers over little Rue. I know that Thresh is another huge obstacle to Prim getting home. I can only hope that he is able to take out some of the Careers first before Peeta or someone kills him. 

Then we get to District Twelve. I can tell right away that the producers have been building up to this not only because of the time left in Mandatory Viewing but also because Caesar and Claudius are barely able to contain their excitement. Unlike in the rest of the Districts where they just show the Reaping itself, here they are showing the whole event from Effie Trinket's attempt to stave off a drunken Haymitch Abernathy to the Mayor's stilted reading of Panem's history. 

All of this is leading up to the big event, my name getting called, and when that happens I can see that all of the color drained from my face. I watch Madge take off her pin and slip it into my hand. I watch myself be escorted up onto the stage and the wind flatten my dress against my body, revealing my pregnancy to all of Panem. 

"Oh my stars! A pregnant tribute! How exciting!" Claudius exclaims. 

"Wait," Caesar cautions. "It gets better."

And to the Capitol's view it does. Effie Trinket asks for volunteers and Prim speaks up. The whole exchange between Effie and Prim is shown as is my and Prim's brief conversation on stage. 

Then Caesar comes back. "Isn't that just lovely? Little Primrose Everdeen volunteering to take her sister's place. It's moments like this that make me realize just how much I love the Games."

"Indeed," Claudius agrees. "It's moments like this that just make me happy to be alive."

Hearing their heartless babble makes me sick, but I know that there is one more Reaping I have to get through before I can get away from the television and all of the disturbing images shown on it. They restart the film and Effie calls Peeta's name. On screen he comes off as even more solid and strong than in person and I can't help but think that is a good thing since he's got Marvel, Cato, Elm and Thresh all in the Games with him and competing for the sponsors who bet on those tributes who are obviously the strongest. 

Caesar and Claudius comment that this year's tributes look to be a good crop and they can't wait to see them in action. The thought sickens me. That is all these children are to them, a moment's distraction. 

Then there is the reminder to viewers that tomorrow is going to be the opening parade and ceremonies and that they will see us then during Mandatory Viewing for the event. The Flag of Panem splashes up and tonight's Mandatory Viewing is over. 

My mother reaches over and turns off the screen as the rebroadcast of the Sixty Fifth Hunger Games comes on. She doesn't say anything but instead opens her arms to me. 

I rush into them and another flood of tears erupts. Dammit, I never used to be this weepy. But I allow the moment of weakness for just right now. 

I won't have time tomorrow. I'll need to stay focused on doing what I can to make enough money in order to save Prim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written 11/9/13  
> Revised 6/15/13  
> Part of this was planned out for ages. Part of it just came out as I was writing in November. The part that just came out was Gale and Katniss' conversation. I realized that I really needed to make sure I didn't accidentally start bashing Gale. He isn't a bad guy and in another time or place I could see him with Katniss. I will admit, I do like Katniss/Peeta better, but that is because I am schmalpy like that.  
> I had a long conversation with two of my friends about naming the tributes. One said I didn't need to, the other said I should. I decided to name them just to be on the safe side. I have a good reason for that. The reason is that the commentators would know the names and would be using them and this time Katniss is going to be paying closer attention because of Mandatory Viewings and her interest in her sister. That was one thing I didn't like in the book was that we didn't get names of those people who were clearly never going to survive or be important even though Katniss had no way of knowing that. The author did so we were in a sense spoiled for which characters were going to play a big part. She got better in the later books, but still there are tons of unnamed people out there. Anyway, most of the tributes names are puns as they are in the books.  
> Tributes alternating Male/Female:  
> Marvel - One - Volunteered  
> Glimmer - One - Volunteered  
> Cato - Two - Volunteered  
> Clove - Two  
> Radi - Three  
> Axel - Three  
> Reef - Four - Volunteered  
> Coral - Four - Volunteered  
> Coil - Five  
> Uranium - Five  
> Ford - Six  
> Grata - Six  
> Elm - Seven  
> Tacoma - Seven  
> Taylor - Eight  
> Taylor - Eight  
> Jace - Nine  
> Ceres - Nine  
> Clint - Ten  
> Piper - Ten  
> Thresh - Eleven  
> Rue - Eleven  
> Peeta - Twelve  
> Prim - Twelve - Volunteered
> 
> Up next, Katniss formulates a plan of action with Gale and watches the Tribute Parade.  
> Please Review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

 

I wake up early the following morning before the sun even lights up the eastern horizon.   This is good.   I have a full day planned and don't want to waste any of it.  

 

I go through my morning routine as I usually do and then slip out to the little fenced in area where Prim's goat, Lady, waits.   She bleats at me pitifully.    I offer her a few fresh sprigs of grass and then lead her over to the stool to milk her.   It takes longer than I want because I'm not as good at coaxing the white liquid out of her as Prim is but I manage to get it all out eventually.    I feed her some Queen Anne's Lace that Prim had gathered yesterday and carry the bucket back inside.   My mother has already said she'll take over the cheese making duties while Prim is gone.   Neither of us state that it is likely Prim is never coming back.   

 

I carve off two thick slices of bread and stick them into the pocket of my hunting jacket.   I gather up all of my hunting and gathering gear and set out for the woods.   As I walk to the fence, I make a mental list of everything I need to do when I reach the other side.   The mayor has a taste for strawberries and he pays well for them.   So picking strawberries is definitely on my list.    The head Peacekeeper, Cray, loves turkey he doesn't pay as well as some people do but with the sheer amount of poaching I am planning to be doing in the coming weeks I feel I should get on his good side.  

 

I will need to see if I can still trade with the baker for squirrels considering his son is in the Arena with my sister.  And maybe I can trade medicinal plants to the apothecary, I'll have to see.    I also will need to start selling the meat and the pelts separately.   I'll make more that way and I know that the furrier is always on the lookout for fox fur.   The tanner will take deer hide and the butcher actually pays better for venison than the traders in the hob.  But bringing down a deer means I'll need someone to help me haul it back.  

 

I reach the fence and give a cursory listen to see if any electricity is running through it.   It's clear and I clamber under the bottom wire.   On the other side, I make a beeline to where I stashed my bow and run into Gale who's obviously waiting for me.

 

"Figured you'd be out early, Catnip," he greets.

 

"I need to be busy, Gale, otherwise I'm going to go mad."

 

"I feel the same way myself.   I've already set a few snares that we can check on later.  So what do you want to do first?"

 

"Set nets out to fish and then go looking for game," I say decisively.   "Are the strawberries in the clearing ready?"

 

"I think so.   Or they should be soon.  Thinking of trading to the Mayor?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Good plan."

 

We place a few nets across the stream in strategic places and as we are doing so, I am struck by an idea.  "Gale," I raise my voice in order to be heard over the stream.   "How much do you think twine is going to be in the Arena?"

 

"You mean like a full spool?" he asks.

 

"Yeah."

 

He considers it.   "It wouldn't be considered as expensive as a weapon or food, but she could make snares out of it.  She knows how to set snares, right?"

 

"I've shown her a few basic ones.  They aren't as good as yours, but they'll do an okay job," I reply.

 

"She can also use it to hold any items together assuming she doesn't get a pack," Gale added.

 

"She can also make a net out of it.   That's what made me think of it.  She made these nets we're using," I say, shaking one for emphasis.  

 

Gale looks at me solemnly.   "Nets can also be used as a weapon.   If she's able to do it, she can use a net to trap or tangle up a bigger tribute and then go in for the kill.   That's what a lot of the tributes from Four do."

 

I nod.  "I don't think Prim would be willing to do that, but maybe Peeta would.   I was also thinking that she could use the nets for camouflage like we do for blinds in the fall."

 

"It's definitely not a bad idea.    We'll have to find out how much it costs, though."

 

"How would we even find that out?" I ask.   "It's not like they have a catalog of this is how much everything costs in the Arena."

 

Gale laughed.  "Actually, they probably do.   If not, we can go to the Mayor and ask to use his phone.    I know that some of the Peacekeepers here place bets on the Games with actual Capitol bookies.   So I bet Cray's got a phone too.  One of them should let us use the phone if we give them enough incentive."

 

I think about Cray and his habit of sleeping with desperate Seam girls and suppress a shudder.  "Let's try the Mayor first."

 

"You're friends with his daughter, right?  That should help."

 

"Yeah," I agree and we finish placing the nets.  

 

Then it's time to hunt.   Gale spots a deer trail early on and motions for me to follow him.   We track the animal for about an hour without any luck so we decide to head back.   Along the way, I pick off any squirrels that are stupid enough to chitter at me.   They may not trade for much if I can't sell them to the baker, but every little bit will help.  

 

Gale spots something up ahead and motions for me to stop.    I squint my eyes to try to make out what  he's seeing.   I don't see any movement that would indicate an animal and the birds haven't stopped singing, which is typically a sign that there's danger.

 

"Gale..."

 

He frantically motions for me to shush and slowly starts to back up, never taking his eyes off of whatever is in front of him.   When he reaches my side, he points toward the ground and I can faintly make out movement there.  

 

Gale only says two words.  "Tracker jackers."

 

I feel my stomach clench.   The insects are a muttation created by the Capitol to keep the Districts in line and in fear.   They look like normal wasps but once someone disturbs their nest, they will pursue whatever or whoever that is aggressively.   I've never been stung, but a few people who visit the Hob have.   They talk of horrible hallucinations and massive pain from the stings.   Occasionally a nest will be found within the walls of District Twelve and the Peacekeepers will have to use a flamethrower to take it out.   They're meant to keep people within the fence.

 

Gale and I slowly edge away from the nest and once we are far enough away to feel safe, Gale speaks, "Dammit!  I hate those things and the Capitol for putting them here."

 

"I thought they only lived in trees."

 

Gale shakes his head.   "They're like regular wasps in that sense.  They'll make their nests anywhere in trees, houses, caves, or even in the damned ground.  It's why they're so deadly.  You never know where to look for them."

 

"Good thing you spotted them, huh?"

 

"I almost didn't," he admits.   "If we'd stepped on them..."  His eyes drop to my stomach.

 

"But we didn't," I soothe.   "Let's go to the clearing and get the strawberries now.   I don't much feel like hunting right now."

 

"I bet that's the first time you've said that!" Gale says with a laugh.

 

"It probably is."

 

We spend a few hours scouring the clearing for strawberries and I manage to scrounge a few other edible wild plants.  Mostly wild carrot, ramps, and clover.  But I even manage to find a few chicken of the woods mushrooms growing on a dead tree on the edge of the clearing.   I pick a few wintergreen leaves for my mother, reminding myself to check with the apothecary in town to see if there are any wild plants that I can sell to him.  

 

After we finish, we make a circuit of all of Gale's snares which net us four more rabbits.    We walk back to the stream, not bothering to quiet our footsteps to see if we startle any game birds.   Our tactic pays off with two turkeys who hear us coming and run right across our path.  

 

Back at the stream, we also have good luck:  eight large trout, three small carp, and one large catfish.   This is good.  That means I can let Gale keep the rabbits and sell the fish instead.   While I can't sell the pelts, I know the butcher will pay well for the trout.   The carp and the catfish I'll take home with me while I'll sell the squirrels and turkeys.  

 

"A good haul," Gale comments.  

 

"I'm glad.   I was afraid after the tracker jackers that we wouldn't be able to get anything."  I look up from our catch at him.   "I don't know how much I'll be able to hunt once the Games start."

 

"I understand.  You're going to want to stock up."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Well, why don't we do this again tomorrow.  Same time?"

 

I smile at him.  It's almost like old times.   "Same time."

 

We slip back under the fence and I take the items that I am keeping home first.   I turn them over to my mother and repack my bag for trading.  

 

My first stop is the butcher.  She's pleased to see me and asks to see what I have in the pouch.   She immediately seizes on the trout like I thought she would.   She also wants one of the turkeys.  Good poultry is hard to find in District Twelve.  Most chickens are kept for their eggs and when they are eventually killed, their meat is tough and stringy.   The turkeys I have are young and their meat tender.    I barter hard and the butcher seems to sense this because she stops me partway through.

 

"Why are you pushing so hard?" she asks bluntly.  

 

I scrutinize her expression, it is kind not angry or annoyed like I feared so I decide to take a chance and tell her the truth.   "It's for Prim.   I'm trying to get enough to help her in the Arena."

 

"Your sister, right?  The one who got the goat," she says referring to Lady.

 

I nod.

 

The woman makes a noise under her breath.  "I can give you thirty for the lot.   And if you have good quality fish or game you come to me first and I'll give you better than what they can at the Hob for the duration of the Games.  You hear me?"

 

I do hear her.  She's basically said that she's going to help me save Prim.   As much as she can and it isn't going to come cheap.  But the butcher can pay in coin and many of the merchants in the Hob can't.   And coin is what I need.   "Done!" I say and we shake on it.  

 

She eyes the second turkey and I feel compelled to tell her it's for Cray.  She nods her head in understanding.   I've got to stay on the Peacekeeper's good side and the turkey will go a long way to doing that.

 

She pays me and I stop at the Mayor's house next.   As I expected, Madge answers the door.  School isn't in session during the Games and she doesn't have a lot of friends.  

 

"Katniss!" she says with a smile.  "I'm surprised to see you."

 

"I've got strawberries," I answer hoping she'll understand and drop it.  I don't want to talk about the Reaping, that's in the past and I can't change it.

 

She does and motions for me to come in.   "Father's on a call with the Capitol right now.  But he'll be with you as soon as he's done."

 

That comment reminds me of something.  "Do you think I could use your phone during the Games?  Make a sponsorship donation?"

 

Madge frowns.   "Those normally go through the Justice Building but I suppose you could if you needed to talk to Haymitch directly."

 

I didn't know that, but I suppose that I should have guessed.   The Justice Building houses a bunch of different departments, Hunger Games Sponsorship would likely be one of them.  "I probably will want to talk to Haymitch directly.  After the bloodbath, I'm going to want to send Prim something pretty specific."

 

"Oh?"

 

"I'll tell you later.   But do you know if there's a pricing catalog?  I want to know how much things will be so I know how much I need to save."

 

Madge thinks for a moment.  "They usually put one out after the opening ceremonies.   It's pretty general, they don't want to release it too early."

 

I know why they don't, those people in the districts who have access to it would be able to deduce what kind of Arena it will be from the items offered and be able to plan accordingly.   It wouldn't matter so much in Twelve but in the Career districts it would make a huge difference.    "Then can I come by tonight to take a look at it?"

 

"I don't see why not.  Why don't you and your mother just come here for Mandatory Viewing?  It'd be easier."

 

I'm not sure that I want to watch the ceremonies with the Mayor and his wife, but it would be a lot easier to get my hands on that catalog if I were already here.  "I'll check with my mother."

 

"Fair enough."

 

"Who's here, Madge?" the Mayor's voice calls down from his office upstairs.

 

"It's Katniss, Father!  And she's brought strawberries," Madge shouts back up.  

 

The Mayor's voice is clearer and I look up to see he's now at the top of the stairs.  "Well, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

 

Madge shrugs.   "You were on the phone.  I didn't want to bother you."

 

"It's never a bother when there are strawberries involved," her father retorts.   He turns to me.  "So how many did you get?"

 

I pull the bundle of berries out and open it for him to look into.   There is maybe a good size bowl of the small fruits and the Mayor looks very pleased.   "These look wonderful!  Same price as last time?" 

 

The Mayor normally pays me five coin per bowl.   I could haggle with him, but again I don't.  "Agreed, I can get more for you if you want?"

 

He looks up sharply at me.   He must have heard something in my voice.   "I wouldn't say no to more.   But I don't want you to go to any trouble."  He enunciates his words clearly and I get the impression that he's trying to tell me something although I am not sure what.

 

"It's no trouble, sir.   And thank you for the coin," I pause for a moment.   "Do you think I could look at the sponsorship catalog after the ceremonies tonight?"

 

If anything, his gaze becomes sharper.   "Ah, I see.   Of course you can, and if I can make a suggestion, why don't you and your mother watch the ceremonies with us?   And have your mother bring some of that headache tea that she makes.    I'm sure that Maribelle will be happy to see her and it."   Maribelle is the Mayor's wife and it's well known in the district that she suffers from horrible migraines.   

 

"I already invited her, Father," Madge says.  

 

"Did you, now?   That's a good girl.  So we'll see you a little before seven then?"

 

Not wanting to offend the Mayor, I nod.  

 

He hands me the coins and I nod my head gratefully.   Madge walks me to the door.  "You know, I could help."

 

I look at her, merchant, dressed in new clothes with no dirt or darnings to mar the fabric and I shake my head.   "Thanks for the offer, but I don't think so."

 

"No, I don't think you get it.   People like Prim, really like her, I'm sure people would be willing to pitch in a coin here or there if they thought it would help her in the Arena.   You don't have to do this all yourself."

 

"I don't take charity," I say flatly.   

 

"It's not charity if people give it to you, or rather to Prim, freely.   Besides, that's why you have me.  I'm going to do the asking.  I can say it's my idea, which it is, and you had nothing to do with it, which you won't."

 

I'm torn.   Part of me balks at the very thought, even with Madge's semantics it's still charity.  But then I think of Prim, every little bit will help and if Madge can get money out of people who wouldn't give me the time of day then more power to her.  Finally I give Madge a small nod.  

 

She smiles at me brightly.  "Great!  I'll start today while memories of her volunteering are still fresh in everyone's minds."

 

"I don't want to hear about it," I say.

 

"Do you want to know the names of the people who help?" she asks seriously.  

 

Do I want to know who I'm going to owe?   Not really.   But I nod again.   I don't like having unpaid debts and right now I have two big red ones that I owe Peeta Mellark.   I wish I'd paid off the first one but even the gift of Madge's pin isn't enough.   I don't know what will wipe the ledger clean.  

 

My next stop is Cray's house.   The Head Peacekeeper is pleased to see the turkey and pays me ten coin for it, less than I got from the butcher.   I'm fairly up front about the fact that I am going to be going out under the fence,  not actually saying the words but implying it.  I'm not stupid.

 

Cray nods.    "It's really interesting what kind of critters can get under the fence in the meadow.    If only we didn't have the shortages that we do."

 

"Yeah, it is too bad about the shortages.   Prim used to worry about mutts or wild dogs getting into the meadow and killing our goat while it grazed."

 

Cray sighs theatrically.   "That is a worry.  You're taking care of your sister's goat while she's gone?"

 

I nod.

 

"Thought so.   I'll let you know when the fence'll be on so that you can let that goat graze in the meadow without fear and you'll keep me first in your mind if you happen on anymore of these stray birds."

 

It's a good solution and I agree to it.  

 

I leave the Head Peacekeeper's house and head over to the Mellark bakery.   I peek through front window to see who's working the register and who's in the back.   Like I suspected, Mrs. Mellark is working up front with one of Peeta's brothers.   Which means that Mr. Mellark is likely in the back.  

 

I slip around the building and into the alley behind the stores.   I knock on the back door shifting back and forth from one foot to the other waiting for someone to answer.   My stomach drops when the door opens and it's Farl, Peeta's seventeen year old brother.   His eyes are red, like he's been crying, but I don't see any tear tracks.   He glowers at me and steps back inside and shuts the door.  

 

It couldn't be any clearer.  I'm not welcome here.   I swallow my disappointment and walk away from town and toward the Hob.   I'm not surprised, I'm not sure I'd welcome their family.  In fact if I'm honest with myself, I know I wouldn't.   Maybe after the Games.   Maybe.   If neither of our loved ones come home.   Maybe then.  

 

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't immediately register that the door to the bakery has opened again and someone is calling my name.   It isn't until what has to be the second or third calling, that I realize that the baker is chasing after me down the street.

 

"Katniss wait!" he cries and I halt.   He trots up to me and stops a few feet away from me, puffing heavily.   "You don't understand."

 

"It's okay, you don't have to explain," I say.

 

He shakes his head.   "I do.  Farl, he's blaming himself."

 

I hold my tongue to keep from saying that Farl should blame himself.   Peeta is his younger brother, if it'd been Prim's name called I know I would have volunteered.   The fact that Farl didn't, doesn't win him any points in my book.  

  
The baker continues on.  "I didn't tell them what Peeta told me.   I know he's not planning on coming home, that he's going to protect your little sister.   I didn't tell them."

 

I look up at the baker in surprise.  "Peeta told you that?"

 

The baker smiles at me.   "He's my son," he says in a thick voice as if that explains everything.   "He didn't want to give me false hope.  He told me that he was going to stick by your sister until the very end.  Keep her safe.  Make sure she comes home.   He's a good boy.  He won't go back on his word."

 

I nod, not sure what to say.   I hope what he says is the truth, but I'm not really sure why he's telling me this.    "Um, I've got some squirrels," I say it slowly, hesitantly.   "I don't know if you're interested..."

 

He throws back his head and laughs which confuses me even more.  

 

"I didn't mean to bother you," I nervously continue while watching him chortle to himself.  

 

"No, you aren't bothering me," he waves me off.  "So you're here to trade.  For coin, I am guessing."

 

I nod.   "It's not that I don't want bread but..."

 

"They won't take that in the Arena," he finishes.   "I understand.   You know, I think we can help each other.   My son's going to be with your sister, right?"

 

I nod hesitantly.  

 

"Then, whatever you send her will help him out at least for a while."

 

"I don't want to take away anything you might send for Peeta."

 

He gives me a sad smile.   "I wasn't going to send Peeta anything.   I know my boy, when he makes up his mind it's made.   All of the sponsorship gifts in the world won't change that.   And since there can only be one winner..." He shrugs.  

 

"I'm sorry," it seems like a really inadequate thing to say to someone.  

 

"It's not your fault.   It's just the way it is.   So come back to the bakery with me and we'll see these squirrels of yours."

 

I follow him back and when I enter the back room, Farl glowers at me again and promptly leaves.   I guess he blames me for his brother's decision although I'm still not sure why Peeta made it.   He probably blames Prim too, I'm just an easier target.  

 

The baker motions for me to sit on a stool and hands me a roll.   It's still warm from the ovens and has herbs and cheese baked into it.   This kind of roll is my favorite and my father used to buy me one for my birthday every year up until he died.   I haven't had one since and so I savor the treat.   I pull out the squirrels and show them to Mr. Mellark to look over.  There are five of them, ranging in size from small to medium large.   He picks out the two largest and puts the rest away.  

 

"I can only take two today," he says regretfully.  "And I can only pay you three coin total for them."

 

It's a little less than what two loaves are worth and I raise my eyebrow at him.  

 

He smiles sadly.   "I tell my wife I give you stale bread.   If it doesn't go out into the shop, she doesn't know.  She's in charge of the cashbox.  "

 

"Oh."

 

"I can give you some day-old rolls to make up for it."

 

"You don't have to."

 

He shrugs.  "They won't sell anyway.   And I'd rather have squirrel than old bread for dinner."

 

I agree to the trade and he slips up front to get the coins.   I hear him talking with his wife and her voice disagreeing with whatever it is that he is saying.   She isn't exactly quiet with her disdain.   I know that she thinks that he's probably paying too much and I agree in theory.  But I am not going to argue when the trade is in my favor.  

 

He returns with a bag of rolls and the coins.  I accept them with a little nod of thanks.   He's a kind man.  "Do you want me to come again tomorrow?" I ask. 

 

He shakes his head.  "No.  Day after should be okay.  But I can't afford good squirrel meat every day."

 

I understand.  His wife won't let him buy more often than that.   I know that Sae'll take squirrel but not many other traders will.   It's going to limit how much I can trade.  

 

I finish up at the Hob and as I expected, Sae takes the remaining squirrels off of my hands.  She doesn't even say anything when I hand her the skinned carcasses instead of the fully furred ones.   She understands that for the time being I need every coin I can get.   The Hob tanner also understands.   Squirrel tails make good trimming and fur is warm no matter what animal it comes from.   So I get a few more chits from him.   It isn't a lot but over all today I've made forty coin.   Not a bad haul although I know I have to do better.  

 

I return home and find my mother waiting for me.   She's got dinner ready and I inform her that we are going to the Mayor's house for Mandatory Viewing and the Mayor would like her to bring her headache remedy tea.  

 

We finish the rest of our meal in silence, my mother spooning more stew into my bowl even though I am no longer hungry.   I feed Buttercup a few flakes of fish under the table when she isn't looking.   He takes the food grudgingly.  I'm not his mistress and he is not sure of this but food is food.   He's as much a Seam brat as I am.

 

A little before seven, finds us standing outside of the Mayor's house.  Madge answers the door again and shows us inside to the parlor and its large screen.  We take our seats and the maid comes out with tea and little strawberry tarts.   I look at the Mayor in askance before taking one.   They are sweet and delicious and I tell them so.  

 

"It's your strawberries.  They make all of the difference."

 

Thankfully, I am saved by the screen flickering on and Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith's garish Capitol faces filling the space.  

 

"Greetings Panem, it's almost time!"  Caesar starts and I know we are in for a lame joke.

 

"Time for me to get a new hairdo?"

 

"It's always time for that, Claudius.   But no, it's almost time for the Tribute parade to start.  In just a few short moments we will be introduced to the twenty four tributes in this year's games.   And frankly, I can't wait."

 

"Any early favorites?"  Claudius asks.  

 

"Well, I will say I have my eye on a few.   But I'm really waiting until I get to interview them later in the week to make up my mind."

 

"Oh!  And it looks like the parade is about to get underway!"

 

There is a flurry of commotion as the cameras zoom in on the Remake Center's doors.    Then there is a loud fanfare and the anthem of Panem starts playing.   Caesar and Claudius 'ooohhh' and 'aaahhh' over the tributes' costumes but really they are the same trite stuff every year.   District One is shiny and sparkly, District Two is martial,  District Four is nautical and every year for as long as I can remember,  District Seven has been a tree.  

 

Even Caesar and Claudius note that.   "Up next is District Seven.  I wonder what kind of tree they'll be this year!"

 

"Well my notes say that they are representing the mighty larch."

 

"The larch?  What kind of tree is that?"  Claudius asks.  

 

Caesar gives a wink to the camera.   "Well we are about to find out."

 

The costumes don't look any different from the ones last year and if last year's tributes from Seven hadn't been a pair of scared twelve year olds I would have guessed that the stylist reused them.   The rest of the tributes are equally uninspiring and I feel a twinge of pity for the kids from District Ten who are dressed up as anatomically correct cattle.  

  
Then District Twelve comes out of the tunnel and my breath catches in my throat.   They are on fire and I mean that literally.   I was expecting the typical coal miner costume, but this is just something else.   Both Peeta and Prim wave at the crowd and the crowd shouts and waves back.  

  
Then Peeta does something unexpected, he lifts my little sister up onto his shoulder.   Prim takes advantage of this and spreads her arms out wide, her fire cape fluttering behind her.   The crowd goes even more wild than they were before and Caesar and Claudius are exclaiming to each other excitedly.

 

"Did you see that?" Claudius asks rhetorically.   "He just picked her up like she weighed nothing."

 

"And did you see what an amazing pair they made?   So handsome, they almost look like siblings."

 

"I can't wait to see their scores!"  Claudius gushes.  "Especially Peeta Mellark's; he's definitely a tribute to watch this year."

 

"I can't wait to interview them," Caesar counters.  

 

"I'm jealous!   What I wouldn't give to talk to a pair of tributes like that."

 

Caesar and Claudius babble on about Peeta and Prim for the rest of the time that the Parade takes to get to the center of the Capitol.   It's a good thing.  The more publicity a tribute gets the more sponsors they are likely to get.   The combination of the costumes and Peeta's stunt are sure to earn them a few.  

 

They pull up into a semicircle in the Capitol Center in front of the President's Mansion and President Snow comes out.  He waves at the crowd and turns to survey the tributes coldly.    I can see him sizing them up and determining who is going to be a factor in the Arena.  It's chilling.  

 

He begins to speak, giving a long speech that boils down to 'for those about to die for our amusement and show of the power we have over your lives we salute you.'   It's the same speech he gives every year, the words may change but the meaning never does.   

 

President Snow finishes his speech and the chariots return to the makeover center, the Capitol crowds screaming out their support the whole way.   Caesar and Claudius say their goodbyes and the screen changes to a rerun of yesterday's Reapings.   The Mayor flicks it off and we sit in silence for a few moments. 

 

I think of the Capitol's reaction to Prim and Peeta.   It is better than I could have hoped but still my stomach churns anxiously.   The tributes are nothing more than a moment's fancy to the Capitol.   They aren't people.  They're game pieces.  

 

It sickens me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written November 2012  
> Revised June, 18 2013  
> Long chapter. It sets up a lot of things. Still long chapter.  
> I figured that one coin is equal to one dollar. And that food prices are close to what they are today, but considering the level of poverty, that most people can't afford those prices.  
> Up next, Katniss finds out just how expensive the Games really are and learns just how highly the Gamemakers think of her sister.  
> Please Review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 

The Mayor looks over at me from his seat on the couch.   "Do you want to look at the Games Sponsorship Catalog now?" he asks.

 

I nod my head. It's the only reason why I am here, honestly.  Otherwise I'd rather be in my own home where I can react however I want and only my mother can see.  

 

He walks upstairs and Madge turns to me.  "They looked good, Katniss."

 

I nod my head again.   

 

"Peeta did a good thing by putting her up on his shoulders," Madge continues.   

 

"He drew attention to himself," I state flatly.  

 

"But he also drew attention to Prim.    The announcers and Capitol were always going to notice the 'Boy on Fire' but by lifting Prim up he made sure that she got to share his spotlight.  It was smart.  Real smart."

 

"I suppose."

 

"Katniss, you know that the odds aren't in Prim's favor.  Anything that can get her sponsors is a good thing.  I just hope that her training score is better than a three. "

 

I give Madge a stricken look.  "I know.   I started to show her how to hunt, but she's not very good at it."

 

Madge understands.  "Then let's hope that she can do something to impress the Gamemakers."

 

The Mayor returns and hands me a thick book about two inches wide.   "There you go," he says.  

 

I take it.  It's surprisingly heavy and my arm wobbles a little under the weight.  "What part is the catalog?" I ask.

 

"That is the catalog," he responds.  

 

My mind boggles.   "The whole thing?  How am I going to find what I want in here?"

 

The Mayor looks at me sympathetically.   "There's an index and it's organized into sections."

 

"Okay," I say with a nod.   

 

I open the book and read the introduction which explains how sponsorship works.  You can take the easy option and just donate funds for the specific tribute and leave it up to the mentor what they receive or you can buy a specific item.   For specific items, the base price is what is listed in this book.   However, after the first day, the prices start to go up.  Ten percent for each tribute death after the first day and  ten percent each day that follows after the first day.  And the percentages are cumulative.   So something that cost one hundred coin on the first day would cost two hundred and thirty six coin on day ten, assuming no tributes died.    The math alone is enough to give me a headache.

 

The Mayor was right, the catalog is organized into categories.   Weapons, Food, Water, Survival Gear, and Miscellaneous.   I almost completely skip the weapons section, except a sense of morbid curiosity makes me stop.   I flip to the end and find the trident section.  My eyes about fall out of their sockets, the cheapest trident in the catalog is three hundred thousand coin and from what I remember, Finnick's trident wasn't a bare bones trident.   Not to mention he got it later in the Games so that upped the price even more.   If I had to guess, it was likely over one million coin.   I can't imagine having enough money that I could throw away one million coin on the Games.  It makes me sick.  

 

I quickly flip back to survival gear and am pleased to see both a general list ordered by price and another list arranged alphabetically.   The cheapest item is a single wooden match costing fifty coin, the most expensive is a fully stocked backpack with water purification kit, bedroll, string, flint and steel, rope, and waterproof covering at twenty thousand coin.  

 

Scanning the list, I find what I am looking for spools of string, and I flip to the corresponding pages that have all of the various options.   There is everything from baling twine to soft cotton string in varying lengths.   The cheapest is one hundred feet of baling twine and the most expensive is two thousand feet of cotton string.    One hundred feet sounds like a lot, but it really isn't when it comes to setting snares and making nets.   So I rule that one out, not to mention baling twine is really rough on the fingers.   The ideal gift would be between five hundred and one thousand feet and cotton so I look that up.  There's a spool that isn't too big with strands that aren't too big that catches my eye.   It's small, portable and most importantly holds seven hundred and twenty five feet worth of the stuff.  

 

Then I look at the price and I feel my stomach drop.   Three hundred and fifty coin.   For string.   For something that I could buy new in the general merchandise shop for three coin.   I knew that the prices of gifts in the Games were inflated, I just didn't think it'd be that much.  

 

I thank the Mayor and I hand the book back to him.   My mother and I should be going and I need to be up early to hunt so I can try to save up enough.   I've got a little over sixty coin already.   More than most people make in a month in the Seam.   I've got to make another three hundred within the next few days.

 

I don't dare wait to buy things later in the Games.  There is no way I'd make enough.   And if I send money to Haymitch, I might as well piss it away entirely.   He's never brought any of the tributes back from Twelve alive and he's hardly ever sober.   No, I can't count on Haymitch to save my sister.  

 

With that thought in mind, my mother and I say our goodbyes to the Mayor and his family.

 

The next few days I spend almost completely in the woods hunting and gathering with Gale.   What I can sell I do for whatever coin I can get.    What I can't sell, I trade for things I'll need during the Games.   Mandatory Viewing only shows the highlights of the day or a special Gamemaker planned event like a feast.  The rest of the time, the games run constantly.   I already know that I won't be able to tear myself away while Prim is still alive.   I can sleep and hunt when she's dead.   Until then, I will be keeping watch.  

 

Gale and I capture and trade all kinds of small game.   But they only bring in pitiful coin for trade and we start to run into another issue.   The townsfolk are running out of money. 

 

Twelve is a poor district.  Possibly the poorest in all of Panem.   Coin just doesn't flow freely here.   We're mostly a barter society and this is especially true in the Seam.   Most of the coin in the district is actually spent by the Peacekeepers from their salaries along with those townsfolk lucky enough to have a government job.   There just isn't enough for me to get without some kind of help.

 

Madge is trying.  She's managed to raise twenty coin from various people around town who couldn't or wouldn't trade with me.   But the ones with the money, the Peacekeepers, aren't willing to throw away their coin on a girl that is almost certain to come home in a box.    

 

I'm starting to become desperate.  

 

A small stroke of luck hits when Gale and I manage to track and kill a good sized doe and her fawn.   I almost feel bad for the animals but brush it aside.  I can't feel pity for them, they are going to be a good portion of the funds I send to Prim.   The fawn especially since that is a rare and very tender meat.  

 

Gale and I field dress the animal and drag it to the woods at the edge of the fence.   There we run into our first real obstacle.  How do you get a close to two hundred pound animal and its dead offspring under the fence and to safety without attracting the wrong kind of attention?

 

After talking it over for a few minutes, Gale and I decide to take the fawn field dressed only to the butcher and then invite her and her cart back to the Meadow where we can haggle for the rest of the price.   We also decide to keep the organ meat for ourselves and our family.   Normally a haul like this would be smoked, dried and cured for the coming winter.   We are missing out on a lot by trading this catch away.  

 

I slip under the fence, carrying the fawn in my hunting bag, and make a beeline for town and the butcher.   When I slip into the shop, she looks up at me and nods.  She doesn't dare say anymore since the customer at the counter is a Peacekeeper and one I don't know to boot.   I make a show of studying the sausages and hams hanging from the ceiling and wait for the butcher to finish ringing him up.   It's only a few minutes but it feels like agony.    I don't dare leave, that would be too suspicious and I am worried about him noticing my bulging bag.   So I do my best to stay out of the way and out of his sight.  

 

Thankfully he doesn't seem inclined to linger over making his purchases and hands over his coin and leaves.   The butcher eyes me and slips to the front door and flips over the closed sign.   Then she motions me to the back room, no point taking a chance of someone looking in the window. 

 

I pull out the fawn and the butcher gets very excited.   "Is that what I think it is?"

 

"A milk fed fawn," I reply.  "About twenty pounds of him."

 

"We haven't had milk fed anything in a long while," she replies.  She's right, most of the meat that we get is older, stringier.   Most of the meat from District Ten goes to the Capitol, the rest of the districts have to make do with the gristle and the leftovers.   The butcher here in Twelve actually keeps most of the animals she sells: pigs and chickens mostly but occasionally she'll get a cow, goat, or sheep to sell.   But that's rarer.   So I know that my deer will be well received.  

 

"We also got his mother," I add.   "But we'll need your cart to bring her back to town."

 

The woman nods.   "I understand.   Let me get it and a canvas to cover it and we'll go.   Do you want to leave the fawn here?"

 

"We should," I reply. 

 

"That is what I was thinking."

 

She gets her things and locks up the store and we set off to the Meadow.   Along the way, she asks me how my fundraising is going for Prim.  

 

"Not as good as I'd like," I answer.  "I'm still about one hundred coin short."

 

The butcher purses her lips.   "I can't give you that much," she warns.   "But let me look at the mother and I'll see what I can do."

 

We walk to the Meadow and thankfully no one gives us a second glance.   At the fence, the butcher ducks down underneath it like she's familiar with the thing.   I give her a look.

 

She returns it.   "What did you expect I'd do when your father got a deer?   Can't rightly haul one through town on his shoulders now."

 

I nod.   I hadn't really thought about it but it makes sense.  

 

The butcher surveys our kill and then looks at Gale and me.   "I can give you seventy five for the doe and fifteen for the fawn."

 

It's lower than I'd hoped, but I can understand why.  The butcher only has so much coin and she's still got to have enough to do business.   She can't give me more than she can sell.

 

I nod and we shake hands.   "I'll bring the money by later," she tells me.

 

I frown but I nod again.   I can imagine that she wouldn't have that much coin on hand.   But I'd still rather have the coin in my hands before giving her the doe.   Still, she's never cheated me and has been fair in all of our dealings so I can cut her a little slack. 

 

Gale and the butcher manage to finagle the doe under the fence while I carry the organ meat out.   After the butcher leaves I walk back to the Seam with Gale.  He tries to make me take most of the meat, but I know that he's still got his whole family to feed so I only take the heart and some of the liver and give the rest to him.   The meat won't keep for long and he's got more need for it.  

 

Tonight's Mandatory Viewing is going to be the tribute scores.   I wonder how Prim has been doing in the Capitol.  How training has been going.   What Peeta is doing to keep his promise to me.   It's nerve wracking to think about it.   

 

For the first time since Prim was reaped, I'm the one to make dinner.   I mince the heart to make into meat pasties that should be able to keep for a few days since I know that my mother and I aren't going to want to cook once the Games have started.   I also set the liver to the side to serve with fried spring onions.  

 

My mother comes in and takes a look at what I am doing and nods approvingly.  She sets her doctor bag to one side and joins me with making the pies.   It's almost homey if it weren't for Prim's lingering absence.  

 

I make our dinner and we put the pies in the oven to bake.  We take our seats in front of the television when the screen springs to life.   As we eat, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith spell out exactly how to send in money for sponsorship.  Each tribute has a phone number to call in and pledge money or items to.   All calls are fielded by the district escorts or mentors, which means that I'll be either talking to Haymitch or Effie.   I'm not sure which is worse.  Still, I write down the number for sponsoring Prim and put it in a safe place for later.    

 

"Now it's time for the part of the program that we've all been waiting for!"  Caesar announces.

 

"The commercials?" Claudius offers with a smile on his face.  

 

Caesar smacks him playfully.  "There's no commercials during Mandatory Viewing, silly."

 

Claudius attempts to look pensive.  "It's not dance time, is it?"

 

"Closer.   It's time to get this year's Hunger Games tributes' scores."

 

Claudius claps his hands in delight.   "Oh my how exhilarating!  I hope my favorite does well."

 

"And who's your favorite this year, Claudius?"

 

"Now that would be telling," he answers with a mysterious little smile.   "But I will say that they are definitely not the usual kind of tribute."

 

"Sounds intriguing, you'll have to tell me later who you are talking about."

 

"Oh, I will, Caesar."

 

"I look forward to it," the blue-haired man says with a smile.   "Now it's time for the scores.  From District One, Glimmer with a score of nine."

 

"She's not only beautiful, but deadly."

 

"Indeed she is.   Also from District One, Marvel who also got a nine."

 

"Not bad," Claudius comments.  Then he takes over the announcing duties.  "From District Two, Clove, with a score of ten."

 

"A ten, that's a great score!  I wonder if anyone can beat that this year."

 

"I don't know about beat, Caesar, but her district partner from Two, Cato, also received a ten."

 

"Also very strong."

 

"Two always is."

 

Caesar nods.  "Yes, they always are."  There's something in his voice.  Like he knows about them training for the Games and doesn't approve.  But he moves on so quickly that I think I might have imagined it.

 

District Three's girl, Radi, scores a two and I can't help but feel sorry for her.   Any score less than a five is pretty much a death sentence in the arena unless your name is Johanna Mason.   But I doubt anyone is going to play that angle this year unless it is the fox faced girl from Five.   Axel from Three scored a six which has both Caesar and Claudius wondering what he did to get that.   District Four's tributes Coral and Reef both score nines.    Which are pretty normal for a Career district.   

 

Uranium, the fox faced girl from Five, gets a five and her district partner Coil scores a four.   The tributes from Six are both equally pathetic in their scores with a two for Grata and a three for Ford.   I shake my head, those two aren't going to last long I think, remembering Grata's outburst of tears after being reaped.   

 

District Seven does much better.  Tacoma scores a seven which is high for anyone who isn't a Career.   Claudius opines that she may be like the lone female winner from District Seven, Johanna Mason, and very skilled with an axe, but the scores don't say how they earned the score, only what score they got.   Elm, the boy from Seven, gets a six.    District Eight's Taylors both score threes.   Other than their names, there isn't anything about them to make them stand out.     District Nine's girl, Ceres, wins a five and the boy, Jace, manages a four.   

 

Ten does better with Piper putting up a seven and Clint getting an eight.   Considering that Clint has a lame foot, I wonder what skills he has to make up for that deficit.   It has to be pretty impressive and something deadly.   Considering his district is known for livestock wrangling, it is likely something to do with that.   But until we see him in the Games we won't know what that is.  

 

Rue's face flashes up next for District Eleven and I am surprised to see her score a seven.  That's high.  Really high.  Especially for a twelve year old, even if she'd been from a Career district she'd be high at her age.    Thresh also scores high with a ten which is unsurprising considering his size.  

 

The commentators effuse for a while over District Ten and Eleven's scores.   I let them even though I am anxious to find out what Prim's score will be.    I hope it's high, but I doubt it.   Prim isn't very good with any weapons.  

 

"Now for our final tributes of the night.  First up is Primrose Everdeen with a training score of five."

 

"Oh that's a very good score for our youngest tribute this year," Claudius effuses.  

 

"Not quite as good as little Rue's, but still respectable.   Up next is Peeta Mellark also from Twelve."  Peeta's face flashes up in the corner of the screen.   "And he scores a ten.  Wow!  Four tens this year, is that a record?" Caesar asks.

 

Claudius consults his notes.   "If you omit the Fiftieth Games, where we had double the tributes, then yes that is a record."

 

"How exciting!   And you can't count any of the lower scorers out, after all it's all about what happens in the Arena." 

 

"You are so right, Caesar."

 

"I can't wait until tomorrow to interview them and get to know them better."

 

"I can't wait for that either."

 

"So until tomorrow this is Caesar Flickerman."

 

"And Claudius Templesmith."

 

"Signing off."

 

The screen goes dark as my mother turns it off and I sit back in my chair.    A five.   Prim got a five.   It isn't horrible and if that girl from Eleven hadn't gotten a seven it'd be even better.  But still, there have been winners with scores of five in the past.   So she's got a chance.  Especially when it comes to survival, which most of the careers don't.   If she can stay hidden and off of their radar until their alliance breaks she's got a chance.  

 

And with Peeta scoring so highly and his promise to pair up with Prim they are sure to get sponsorships.    This gives me hope.   I'm only ten coin away from being able to get Prim the string I want.  I'm almost there and I still have another day to go before the Games start.

 

I hope I'm ready in time.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Beta read by RoseFyre  
> Written in November of 2012 as part of NaNoWriMo.  
> Revised June 18, 2013.
> 
> Some of the scores changed because Katniss wasn't there but for the most part the scores listed in the books stayed the same. I couldn't remember the scores of most of the tributes in the books and I am not counting the movie's listing as canon. Some of the scores they gave the tributes makes no sense and considering who lived and who died in what kind of order I wanted to take that into consideration. 
> 
> Please Review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

 

The last day before the Games start begins very quietly.  Even the birds seem subdued I note as I walk across the Meadow on my way to the edge of District Twelve.   Gale meets me with a small nod of greeting at the fence and we climb under.   

  
"So what's the plan for today?" he asks, playing with a coil of wire .

 

"I need just ten more coin and I'll have enough for Prim's sponsorship gift," I answer. 

 

Putting the wire into one of his jacket pockets, he nods.   "Shouldn't be too hard to get."  He looks at me critically.   "Katniss, do you have enough?"

 

I deliberately misunderstand his question.  "Money?  I just told you, I need ten coin more."

 

"No, not that," he says with shake of his head.  "I mean for the baby.  You're still really thin."

 

"I'm from the Seam, I've always been thin," I counter.  

 

"Not this thin.  My mother says it's not good for you or the baby."

 

I can feel my anger starting to rise.   "I would think my mother, who's a whole lot more familiar with medicine than your mother, would tell me if I weren't healthy."

 

"Katniss..."

 

"Don't 'Katniss' me.   You are not my mother.  You aren't my husband-"

 

"Because you won't let me be!" Gale interrupts.

 

I continue on without acknowledging his protest.  "And that means you don't get to tell me what to do.   It's my life.  And you've screwed it up enough as it is."

 

"Well forgive me for thinking I meant something to you," Gale snaps sarcastically.   "I can see now that I was wrong."

 

I'm angry so I rail back.  "Yeah, you really were.  You were my friend, Gale.  That meant a lot to me." I pause and look down at my feet.  In a softer tone, I continue, "It still does.   But any more than that?   I don't know.  I'm not ready to be thinking about that right now.  But if you keep acting like this, I'm not going to ever be ready and it will never be you. Never.   You're my friend, Gale. I can't give you anymore.  Not now.  Maybe not ever. Do you understand?"  I'm tired of this same conversation with him.  

 

He opens his mouth to say something then thinks better of it.    "Yeah, I think I do."

 

"I hope so, I'd hate to lose you as a friend, Gale."

 

"I'd hate to lose you too."  He takes a step closer to me, like he's going to give me a hug but decides against it.  That is probably a wise choice, I'm not in a mood to be touched at the moment.

 

I look up and readjust my hunting jacket over my belly.  "So let's get going.   I don't have a lot of time left and we haven't even started yet."

 

"Lead the way."  He makes sweeping motion with his hand.

 

Things are a little less tense after that, although I can tell that Gale isn't happy.   That's okay, I'm not happy either.    Gale goes off to set several snares while I spend my time along the stream bank.   I set my nets again and wander up and down along the edge.  I pick off whatever animals I can find, there aren't many only a squirrel and a raccoon, who was washing something off in the stream.   

 

I also find a slower section of the stream that has cattails and katniss growing beside it.    I smile, remembering my father's words that so long as I could find my namesake I wouldn't starve.   I take off my shoes and root around in the mud with my toes to loosen up the tubers to float to the surface.   I grab them and toss them up on to the bank before the stream whisks them away.   I gather the cattails whole since the entire plant is useful.  The katniss I just cut off the roots to take home. 

 

Anything that I find that is edible will go into my bag today.   I don't want to have to go out during the Games and after my argument with Gale I really don't want to count on him.   He'd take it the wrong way and start pressuring me again to marry him.  

 

"How's it going, Catnip?" Gale says from the edge of the wood. 

 

"Okay," I answer looking at my haul.  "Want to go pick strawberries?"

 

"Are they going to be ready?  It's only been a few days."

 

I shrug.  "It's worth a check.  I'm going to the Mayor's tomorrow morning anyway."

 

"Is that when you're going to make the phone call for sponsorship?"

 

"Yeah.   Madge is also giving me whatever donations she's managed to raise then too," I add.   "So some strawberries might be enough to make up the difference if I'm short."

 

"Good idea."

 

We travel to the clearing and gather up as many strawberries as we can find.   There aren't many so Gale suggests we head to our old meeting place to get blackberries too.   We make out better there and after about an hour my berry bag is full.  

 

I sit down on one of the rocks and look around a little sadly.   This was my and Gale's place.   Now, it's just the place that I come to get blackberries.   It's a big change.   "So what do we want to do now?" I ask. 

 

He looks at me.  "I think that's up to you.  We can try to go tracking more game."

 

I think about it for several moments.  Actively hunting doesn't appeal to me.   Granted I only have two animals for trade, but the thought of stalking my prey through the woods makes my stomach churn.   I'm tired, but I don't dare say that to Gale.  So I struggle to find a way to suggest that we not tramp through the woods.    "I don't think we need to.   It's a nice day and lots of animals are going to come down to the stream to get a drink, we can just pick them off when they show up."

 

"Okay," he says giving me a funny look.  

 

Crap!  He's noticed something in my tone.  I quickly come up with a reason he'll accept without too much fuss.  "We can also see what we can find along the banks.   I think the baby wants crayfish."

 

He glances down at my stomach.   "Well, whatever the baby wants..."

 

"The baby gets," I finish.   "So let's hop to it."

 

The rest of the day is spent splashing and patrolling the stream banks.   Gale and I manage to have a good time and catch a few crayfish.  Not enough for a whole meal but if I put them into a stew they'd taste good.   I also gather any plants I can that I know are edible - marsh marigold, watercress, mint, chicory, nettle, thistle, and of course dandelions.   The dandelions remind me of Peeta and the hope that he brought me in that terrible time after my father died.    I still owe him, I think, and I have no way of paying him back.

 

Gale glances at the sky and tells me that it's getting close to three.   Time to call it a day.   I pull in my nets and small haul of fish while Gale goes and checks his snares for any game.   He too only comes back with a few rabbits.   I only have five fish, mostly small catfish with one trout.  

 

We pack everything up and slip back under the fence.   Gale walks me to my house and helps me unload everything.   I repack my game bag with the trout, squirrel and raccoon and put the other four fish in the cooler for later.   Gale gives me one of his rabbits and I want to refuse, but it's for Prim.   I should have enough to get the ten coin I need but a little extra won't hurt.

 

The Hob is bustling with people bringing in items to trade.   I beeline for Sae's booth and pull out my game and fish.   She gives me a hard look and asks bluntly, "How much you short by?"

 

I tell her and she nods.  "I can give you that for this lot. Save you from tramping around everywhere."

 

I probably could make more, but she's right, I'd have to go all over town.   I'd rather get home, there's a lot of things I'd like to do before the interviews, mainly double and triple  checking to make sure that I haven't miscounted anything.   But there's also normal everyday living things that I need to do, things like laundry, making cheese, pickling the vegetables that I've gathered, making jam.   Things that will mean that I can survive the winter or even the next few days.  

 

I get home and start my chores.  I am not the greatest of cooks but I can do simple things and at least do all of the prep work for my mother to finish.   But before I do any of that, I take down the jar holding the money I've earned and spill it out onto the bed.   Carefully I count the coins, dropping them back into the jar in multiples of ten.   I do it once and the do it again.

 

When I get done with my second count, I sit back with a smile on my face.   Three hundred and fifty two coin.   Enough to buy the spool I want and a little left over to start rebuilding the nest egg I'd sacrificed.   I don't even need to sell the strawberries to the Mayor, although I probably still will.  After all, I have a baby coming in a few months.  

 

My mother returns home and smiles at my preparations, we spend the next few hours canning and preserving what I got from the woods.   I clean the fish and feed the entrails to Buttercup, he mewls pathetically and looks around expectantly for his mistress. When she doesn't show up, he hisses at me.  

 

"I miss her, too," I tell him.  

 

He hisses at me again.   Stupid cat. 

 

A little before seven, my mother hands me a bowl of crayfish stew with katniss root and we sit down in front of the screen.   I know that Caesar Flickerman has this amazing knack of making the tributes look as good as they can.

 

He comes out in his blue hair and sparkling suit and the crowd cheers.   He greets them and gets right down to business.   After all he's got twenty four tributes to get through and even though they only get three minutes per tribute, that's still a lot to get through.  

 

As always, District One starts off.   Glimmer flounces up onstage in a sheer, opaque dress that sparkles when she moves.   She looks even more gorgeous than she did during the parade and I know that she's going to get a lot of sponsors.   She flirts and gives all sorts of innuendo during her interview.  

 

My mother snorts at her and looks over at me.   "That girl is a tramp."

 

"A deadly one," I reply. 

 

"She's got no shame.   I'm glad your father and I raised you girls better than that."

 

I feel guilty.  She also raised us to wait until marriage to engage in any kind of sexual activity.   I know she's disappointed in me, but she doesn't say anything.  What good would it do?   It's okay, she's disappointed me in the past too. 

 

The buzzer rings and Marvel saunters up onstage.  He poses and smirks and I can hear a few of the younger members of the audience let out high pitched squeals.   I don't get it.   I suppose Marvel is good looking but I'm just not into the persona he's creating.  

 

My mother agrees with me.  "He's a bad boy."

 

"He's a Career," I state.  It's a given he's a bad boy.

 

My mother chuckles.  "No, not that way.  He's the kind of boy who'd break a girl's heart and then go out with her best friend just because he could.  I don't like him."

 

"You're not supposed to like him," I point out.

 

"Maybe not, but I can feel sorry for them most years.   They're also victims of the Games."

 

She's got a point.   Even Careers are victims of the Capitol, even if they volunteered to be there.  

 

Clove walks up next.   She's dressed in a simple black and gold dress with lace up sandals.   Her lean muscles are accentuated.   She greets Caesar politely and sits down on the couch next to his chair.  

 

"So Clove Miner, you certainly are a lovely tribute."

 

"Thank you, Caesar.  My stylist is wonderful to turn a poor district girl into this."  She motions to her hair and dress.  

 

"Well, they certainly had a great canvas to work on.  So tell me, what did you do to earn such a high score?"

 

Clove smiles cruelly.  "I'll let you use your imagination on that one.   But let's just say that I made an impression and go with that.  You can't expect a girl to give away all of her secrets."

 

"No, of course not.  So let's go back to the day you were reaped.   What was going through your head when you heard your name called?"

 

Clove 's face drains of color and she takes a few seconds to reply to Caesar, which is in stark contrast to the cocky girl she was portraying earlier.   "I was honored, of course," she says eventually.   "Who wouldn't be to compete in a Games like these?  In fact, I thought that someone would want to take my place and get the glory for herself.  I guess she lost her nerve."

 

"Well, lucky for us that she did."

 

Clove tries to smile but it comes out like she is trying not to cry or bite Caesar's head off.   Thankfully the buzzer sounds and she positively bolts from the stage.    That clinches it in my mind, she doesn't want to be there.  That is unusual for a Career.  There is something else going on, only I'm not sure what.

 

Cato places a hand on Clove's shoulder before he strides onstage.  They share a look.  

 

Caesar comments on it as soon as the Career sits down.  "It looks like you and Clove are close.  Did you know each other back in District Two?"

 

Cato glances over to Clove before answering and she gives him a small nod.   "I've known her all my life.  We grew up together."

 

"So would you say that you're good friends?"

 

"Yes, I'd say that."  He glances back over to her and I begin to feel the stirrings of sympathy for the two.   That's probably why they're both so upset, they don't want to kill their friend.

 

Caesar however seems to see something that I don't and presses on.   "Would you say that you're more than friends?"

 

Cato freezes.   This is not the angle he was planning on portraying.  I can tell that from his face.   But to refuse to answer Caesar hurts the tributes, any Career knows that.   Again he looks to Clove for some kind of confirmation.    She closes her eyes and a spasm of pain crosses her features but she gives another brief nod.  

 

Taking a deep breath, Cato finally answers Caesar's question.   "She's the most important person in my life."

 

The crowd erupts into a series of loud shouts and cries.   Most of them exclaiming how horrible it is that two lovers are having to go into the Arena but some are excited, wanting to see love turn into murderous rage.   It makes me sick to my stomach. 

 

The audience doesn't manage to get back under control in time for Caesar to ask another question, so Cato manages to escape back to his seat next to Clove.   I feel sorry for the girl from Three, no one, not even the camera, is paying any attention to her.  They're too focused on Cato and Clove trying to recover from Cato's admission.    I can see them whispering to each other and I'm grateful that the Capitol cameras can't see their lips clearly, otherwise we'd be having a running translation of what they are saying.  

 

The boy from Three, Axel, manages to get the attention back on him.   He's quiet, polite, and when asked if he has a strategy he gives a little smile and answers.  "I do.   And it's going to be something with a real bang to it."

 

Four is up next.   Coral is a typical Career from Four: quiet and arrogant.   Unlike One and Two, Four careers tend to let their weapons and kills speak for them.  She doesn't say much other than to remind Caesar that there's a reason why there are a lot of winners from Four and that she intends on being the next one.  

 

Reef apparently is camera shy.   Which Caesar manages to turn into something adorable.   The poor boy stutters through his interview but his score and physique will still manage to get him sponsors.  

 

The foxfaced girl from Five is next.  Uranium's a marked contrast to Reef: poised, polished, and reeking of suppressed danger.   She's the kind of girl you'd expect to sneak up behind you and stab you in the back.   She reminds Caesar that the scores aren't everything and that most years the highest scoring tributes tend to end up dead.   She smiles a little at that and my blood runs a little cold.

 

I miss her district partner's time because I decide that I need a nice cup of warm tea after Uranium's interview.  

 

The two from Six are equally pathetic.   The girl is barely able to get any words out and the boy has already given up.   I feel sorry for Caesar since there is nothing he can do with either of them.   

 

You can almost taste Caesar's relief when Tacoma comes up onstage.  She's clearly trying to channel Johanna Mason's post games persona.  She's rough, crude and abrasive.   But she also makes an impression.  

 

When Caesar asks "Are you as strong as you look?" 

 

Her answer is to pick him up into a bear hug.   "Is that strong enough for you?" she asks as she sets him down.  

 

"Oh, I think so!" he exclaims to the crowd's cheers.   I can see out at the edge of the screen that there were Peacekeepers poised to come up onstage and that only a hand wave from Caesar kept them from bounding up there and forcibly restraining Tacoma.   I wonder if the girl knows what kind of trouble she's in.    And in my mind, I lower her chances even further.   After her display, the Gamemakers are never going to allow her to win.  She's just too unpredictable.

 

Elm seems to realize that and his interview is calm, polite and boring.   As are the two from Eight.   My bladder twinges and I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.   I don't want to miss Prim's interview and I honestly don't think the tributes from Nine are going to be any competition.   I come back in on the tail end of the girl from Ten's interview.   Piper seems sweet but I'm remembering her seven training score.   She may seem sweet, but so are a lot of poisons.  Both can kill you.  

 

The boy from Ten, Clint, limps up on stage.    Naturally Caesar focuses in on that.   "How is your foot going to affect your Games?" he asks bluntly.  

 

The boy glares at him.  "It isn't."

 

"If you say so!  So mind giving us a hint of what to expect from you?"

 

"No," he replies sullenly.  

 

"Oh my, it seems that you've got a bit of a temper on you," Caesar points out.

 

"Was that a question?"  I find myself liking this Clint.   He's obviously aware that no one is going to sponsor him because of his limp and so is refusing to play their little game.   I have to respect him for that and in any other Games but this one I'd be rooting for him.

 

Rue bounces up onto the stage in a light blue outfit complete with little gossamer wings.    She's rocking it.    She also manages to completely charm Caesar with her assertion that even though she's small, she shouldn't be counted out.   I almost wish that Prim had that kind of pluck but I know that I'm underestimating my sister.   She's sweet and able to make anyone love her.   She's going to do fine.

 

Thresh, Rue's district partner, also seems unwilling to play the Capitol's game.  Although unlike Clint from Ten, his monosyllabic replies make him come off as menacing and not sullen.   He'll get sponsors just based on his size alone.  

 

I lean forward as the buzzer sounds.  It's Prim's turn.   She floats up onstage in a white and yellow sundress with a crown of daisies in her hair.  She looks fresh and sweet and I bless whoever her stylist is that they're not trying to sexualize my twelve year old sister.   She sits down and looks expectantly at Caesar.  

 

"So, Primrose Everdeen, how are you finding the Capitol?"

 

Prim smiles.  "I wish I could see more of it!   What I saw at the Parade and from my window here at the Training Center it all looks so pretty!"

 

"So what's your favorite thing so far?"

 

She thinks about it for a moment.  "If you'd asked me when I first got here I would have said the food.  But now, I think it's the people I've met.  They've all been so nice!"

 

The crowd coos at her and I smile.  She's winning them over.   Caesar senses this and moves on.  "Well, it sounds like the Capitol likes you too."

 

"Oh, I hope so!"

 

"So take us back to the Parade.  How did it feel being on fire like that?"

 

Prim leans forward.  "Can I tell you a secret?"

 

"Of course you can!"

 

"I was a little scared.  I even asked Peeta to tear the cape off of me if the fire got too high.  But then he put me up on his shoulders and I was having too much fun to be scared."

 

"So the Parade was fun?"

 

"Uh-huh!   With all of the people waving and cheering and throwing flowers.  I just wish I could have saved all of the flowers I got."  She looks sad and I know that the Capitol is just eating this up.  

 

"I'm sure you'll get more flowers, Primrose."

 

"Prim.  Call me Prim.   It's what all of my friends call me."  She smiles winningly at the blue-haired man.

 

Caesar looks flattered.   "Okay, Prim.   So we all know that you volunteered for your sister, why did you do that?"

 

Prim looks like she's about to cry.  "I didn't want her and the baby to die.   I couldn't let that happen, not when I could stop it."

 

"That was very brave of you."

 

She shakes her head.  "It's what sisters do.  We look out for each other, I know she'd have done the same if it were me."

 

"Is there anything you want to say to your sister right now, Prim?"

 

She waves at the camera.  "I love you, Katniss.  And I'll be home soon!"

 

The buzzer sounds and I'm trying not to break down and cry.   My sister did so well, she was sweet and charming and the Capitol loved her.   But it isn't enough.   Not with the star-crossed lovers of District Two, the conniving girl from Five, and the mountain that is Thresh.   My sister doesn't stand a chance.  

 

Peeta gives Prim a quick hug and walks up onstage.   Caesar immediately asks him about the hug.  "So you're close to Prim?"

 

Peeta shakes his head.  "I didn't know her all that well back home.   But I've really grown to love her in the time that I've known her.  There's just something about her that makes people care about her."

 

"You know, I think you're right.  I just met Prim and it feels like I've known her forever."

 

"She's just that loveable, I suppose," Peeta agrees.

 

"So what is your favorite thing about the Capitol?" Caesar asks.  It's his go to question.

 

Peeta is prepared because he smoothly goes into a long thing about the Capitol showers culminating with having Caesar smell his arm.   The audience eats this up and is laughing the whole time.  

 

"So do you think your shower mishap affected your score?"

 

Peeta laughs.  "Not unless I bowled the Gamemakers over with my smell.   And in that case I should have gotten an eleven!"

 

"Still, a ten is nothing to sneeze at."

 

"I'm just grateful that they thought so highly of me.   It's really an honor."

 

"So is there anyone waiting for you back home?  Maybe a girlfriend?"  I raise an eyebrow.   Caesar only asks that question when the tribute has a good chance of making the top eight and most of the time is the winner of their Games.   In the games I can remember he's asked that question in Finnick Odair's, Cashmere Velvet's, Gloss Velvet's,  Annie Cresta's, and last year's winner's Lupus Maxim from Two's interviews and each time those people went on to win.   He must think Peeta has a good chance to be asking that question.

 

Peeta's face goes carefully blank.  "Well, there is a girl I really love, Caesar."

 

"Oh?  Did you two do anything special before you came here?"

 

"She did come see me in the Justice Building," he replies and I feel my heart stop.  He can't mean...  Peeta continues unaware of my fears.  "We hugged and talked and I gave her a kiss goodbye.   We didn't have a lot of time so I couldn't tell her everything I wanted to say."

 

"Well when you win, you'll get a chance to get those words out."

 

Peeta shakes his head sadly.  "I don't think she'll talk to me if I win."

 

"And why's that?"

 

"Because her sister is in the Games with me."

 

The audience explodes into a cacophony of cries and protests and I wish I could join in with them.   My mother looks over at me sharply and I can't even find words to protest, I'm just in too much shock. 

 

"Peeta likes me," I whisper.  

 

"I'm surprised you didn't figure that out earlier," my mother says quietly. 

 

I shoot her a sharp look. 

 

"You've always been oblivious to that kind of thing, Katniss."

 

"I'm sorry," I snap.  "I have more important things to worry about.  And how was I supposed to know, we've said all of three words to each other before the Reaping."

 

My mother smiles at me sadly.   "I guess I view the world a little differently."

 

"So that's why he promised to bring Prim home."

 

She nods.

 

I replay the time I spent with Peeta in the Justice Building and suddenly things make a lot more sense.   The request for the hug.   His words.  The kiss.  Even his promise to bring Prim home.   All of it was because he loves me.     "Peeta loves me."

 

"I know."

 

"Why?" I ask.  "How?"

 

She shrugs.  "Who knows?  Love's a funny thing, you don't always get to choose who you fall in love with.  It just happens."

 

I think of her and my father and nod.  She would know.   They were the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve in their time.  

 

"I didn't need this," I grouse.  "It's just one more thing to worry about."

 

My mother looks out the window and then back at me.  "I'm afraid that's not the only thing you have to worry about."

 

"What's that?"

 

"Gale's here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written November 2012 as part of NaNoWriMo.
> 
> Revised 7/12/13
> 
> Beta read by RoseFyre. 
> 
> Yes, things have changed. I'll admit that I tend to think of Cato and Clove being a little more than just district partners. There's his reaction to her death in the books. The fact that he begs her to stay with him is very telling. So yes, I think they likely meant something to each other. So in my story Cato stole some of Peeta's thunder.
> 
> Up Next: The Games Begin!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Gale's fist bangs on the door and my mother rushes to open it before he smashes it in.   He stands in the doorway, breathing heavily.  He obviously ran from his house all the way over here.  I can guess why.   Peeta's interview.

 

"Come in," my mother says politely.  "Would you like some tea?"

 

Gale ignores her.  "Katniss, we need to talk."  His grey eyes are flinty. 

 

"Come in and sit down, Gale," I say from my chair by the television.    The tributes are all standing for the anthem of Panem which tells me that the show is now over.   Goody.  Just in time for the fireworks to begin. 

 

He glances at my mother.  "We need to talk privately," he growls and walks toward my chair as if he is going to forcibly pick me up and carry me outside so we can have the argument that I know is forthcoming.  

 

My mother steps in front of him, blocking his way.  "Whatever you need to discuss with Katniss, you can do so in front of me."  Her protectiveness surprises me.  It's so different from the woman I remember.

 

"I don't think this is a conversation that you need to be a part of," he says in a very hard voice.  

 

"If it involves my underage daughter, it does," my mother says stubbornly.

 

I'm grateful to her but this is my fight.   I stand up and turn off the screen before asking,   "What do you want?"  I know what he wants, but it's as good of an opening as any.

 

"What was that, Katniss?" he demands, gesticulating at the screen.

 

"The interviews?" I ask being deliberately obtuse.  "They happen every year.  I'd have thought you'd know that by now."

 

He narrows his eyes at me.   "I do.  I meant what that merchant kid, Mellark, said."

 

Great.  Gale's class prejudices are coming out.  He seems to forget that my mother was a merchant and my closest friend other than him is one too.  "Which part?  The part where he called my sister lovable or where he talked about the strange Capitol showers?"  Again, I'm not going to say it.  Gale's going to have to make the accusation.

 

And he does.  "You know what part I mean.   The part where you kissed him."  He makes it sound like I went and slept with the Head Peacekeeper, Cray.  Like I did something disgusting and  desperate.

 

My temper flares at the insinuation.   "I didn't kiss him!   He kissed me!   That's a whole world of difference!"

 

Gale crosses his arms like he's just won the argument.  "But you're not denying that you said goodbye to him."

 

"Of course, I'm not.   I told you I talked to him and he promised to save Prim."

 

"You didn't mention the hug or the kiss," he states flatly.

 

"That's because it wasn't any of your business," I shoot back.  He's driving me crazy with this possessive protective thing he has going on.

 

He takes a step toward me.  "Are you sleeping with him?"  His voice is low, dangerous. 

 

"What?"  I'm honestly confused.  Where did that question come from?

 

"Are you sleeping with him, Katniss?" he repeats in a more normal tone.

 

I stare at him, disbelieving.  "I can't believe you'd even ask me that," I say.  I'm hurt and angry and I want to cry.   "But, no, I didn't sleep with him or anyone else."

 

A relieved smile crosses his face and his whole posture eases.  "Good."

 

That just makes me angrier.  "What makes you think you have the right to ask me that?"

 

He gives me a look like I should already know the answer.  "You're carrying my child."

 

I see red.   "Just because you knocked me up doesn't mean that you get to have any say about how I live my life.   You're not my husband, Gale!   And after tonight you're never going to be!  Now get out!"  I turn away so he can't see the tears that are threatening to fall.  I'm not some prize to be fought over.   I'm my own person and I can make my own decisions.  I'm just so angry and hurt, I can't bear to face him.   He has no right to be acting like this.  None. 

 

"Katniss..." he says from behind me.  

 

"You heard my daughter, get out," my mother says in a hard voice.  

 

I hear Gale leave and my mother shut the door behind him.   She crosses the room to me and rubs my back and shoulders soothingly.    I'm grateful that she was there, but it doesn't stop the hurt.  

 

"It's never going to go back to the way it was, is it?"  I say in a voice that's full of tears.

 

"I'm sorry, Katniss," my mother replies.   She doesn't have to tell me that I'm right.   I've already realized the truth.   I've known it for a while but I haven't wanted to admit it.  

 

My mother warms up some of Lady's milk and gives it to me.   I wrinkle my nose at the warm white liquid but I take it anyway.   It will soothe my nerves and help me sleep.   Tomorrow the before the Games start at noon and I need to go to the Justice Building to make my payment then go to the Mayor's house.  

 

Madge has invited me to watch the first day at her house and I even though I don't want to, I know I should probably not watch the first day alone.   Most Games at least a third of the tributes die at the Cornucopia the only exception to that was the year that the Cornucopia only held spiked maces.   That year all of the non-careers bolted for cover.   Making the deaths at the Cornucopia a whopping two.   Sadly both were from District Twelve, I guess they thought that there might be something further in, I don't know, all I know is that they died quickly and Haymitch was especially drunk that year, having to be supported by Chaff from District Eleven when he did the exit interviews.  

 

I drink my milk and go to bed.  I need to be up early tomorrow.  

 

**oOo**

 

The next morning is a little hectic.   I get up, get breakfast and go down to the Justice Building and wait for it to open.   The clerk comes out and I ask where the sponsorship office is.  He gives me a sympathetic glance before he leads me to a very small office in the basement.   The woman seated there looks like she would rather be anywhere else than in that office and I feel unsympathetic.  She, at least, is paid to be here.   I'm here for my sister.  

 

She takes down all of my information and asks if I want to make a general funds donation or buy a specific item.   When I tell her item, she looks at me in annoyance.  "Those are supposed to be phoned into to the mentors and paid via bank funds transfer."

 

"I don't have a bank account," I protest.

 

"Not my problem."

 

"Isn't there another way?"  I plead.

 

She snorts.  "Not unless you can call Haymitch Abernathy and convince him to buy what you want."

 

"I'll do that.  Just give me the form."

 

She looks at me like I'm crazy, but I've got to try.   She hands me the form and I run to the Mayor's house.    Madge opens the door and I gasp out, "I've got to call Haymitch!"  He needs to

 

She sees the form crumpled around the jar of coins in my hand and nods.   She takes the jar and the paper from my hands and leads me upstairs to her father's office.    She knocks on the door and waits for him to answer.  

 

When he does, she opens the door and lets me inside.  The Mayor is seated at his desk, it's obviously been cleared off of any documents that I'm not allowed to see.   That's fine with me,  honestly, he's taking a big enough of a risk letting me use his phone.  

 

I dial the number for Prim that was up on the television a few nights ago when they announced the scores.   And almost immediately a gruff voice answers, "Yeah?"

 

"Is this the number to sponsor Primrose Everdeen?"  I ask.

 

"It is, yeah."

 

"Can I talk with her mentor, Haymitch Abernathy?"

 

"Who do you think answered the phone, sweetheart."

 

My temper flares.  "Well, how am I supposed to know what your voice sounds like?  I've only ever heard you when you were throwing up."

 

"You want something?" I can hear the annoyance in his tone.

 

I calm myself down.   "I want you to send Prim something very specific today after she gets away from the Cornucopia."

 

"Think she's going to survive, huh?"  He sounds amused.

 

"I know she is.   When she gets away, you need to send her item number," I pause to check the catalog to make sure, "three eight one two seven A.  You think you can do that?"

 

"You want to send her string?"  He asks after a few moments when he was obviously looking up the item.  

 

"She's good with snares and making nets," I answer.   "If she can keep herself fed, she's got a chance."

 

"Who are you?" he asks.

 

"Her sister."

 

"The one the boy's in love with?" There's no question who 'the boy' is.  

 

I nod then realize he can't see me.  "Yeah."

 

"Well, shit.   Ain't this a damned predicament."

 

"It's not really.  Just send her the string, I can't do the item sponsorship because I don't have a bank account.  So I've got to do general.   I've got the money for it.  Please, Mr. Abernathy."  I'm starting to get a little desperate and it's apparent in my voice.

 

"So you're going to owe me if I do this, huh?   Okay I want you to do something for me."

 

"If I can," I answer.  

 

"When they come to interview you, and they will, don't say anything bad about the boy."

 

"Peeta?   Why would they interview me about Peeta?"

 

The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening and I blush.   Of course they'll interview me if he reaches the final eight.  They all think I'm his girlfriend.

 

"I get it now.   I won't say anything bad about him."

 

"If you could play that you liked him that'd be better."

 

"I owe him.  Will that work?"

 

He considers it for a few moments.  "It'll do.  Send the money, your sister will get the string."  He hangs up without any kind of goodbye and that is fine with me.  

 

I put the handset back into the cradle and look up at the Mayor and Madge.  "He'll send it."

 

"Great!  Now fill the form out and I'll go with you back to the Justice Building," Madge says. 

 

"I'll go with you as well," the Mayor adds. 

 

I nod at them gratefully and reach out for the piece of paper Madge is holding.  I carefully fill out all of the fields with a blue fountain pen the Mayor hands me and when I'm done he looks the form over to make sure I'm not missing anything and signs the 'witness' field verifying that everything is accurate.  

 

Things go much smoother at the Justice Building this time.   The clerk is positively effusive at the Mayor and Madge.  Granted, she still looks at me like I'm dirt on her shoe but so long as she doesn't screw me over, I don't really care.   She counts my coin out with a displeased expression on her face.   I know that in the Capitol they use paper money.  But out here in the districts, metal is still used mostly because it lasts longer.   Still, she doesn't short my count like I half feared and a half hour before the Games are set to start we're done.

 

I walk back to the Mayor's house wishing that I'd brought something to snack on.   I pass the bakery and feel the few coins I didn't need for Prim's gift in my pocket.   I could get something, but should I?  The baker's been kind to me and maybe by buying something from his family I can assuage some of the guilt I feel about owing Peeta.

 

I tell Madge and the Mayor that I'll meet them at their house in a few and walk into the shop.  Mr. Mellark and his oldest son Bing are manning the counter.   Good, I don't need to face Peeta's mother.

 

"Dad," Bing says nudging his father and nodding in my direction.

 

The baker's face lights up.  "Katniss!   I was hoping you'd stop by.   I've got something for you."

 

I tilt my head questioningly at him

 

Flustered, he rummages around in the pockets of his apron.   "I had it here, so I wouldn't lose it.  I was going to bring it by later, after I closed the shop, for you," he explains, his hands pulling out various bits of detritus from his apron.  "Ah here it is!"

 

He hands me an envelope with my name on it. 

 

"What's this?" I ask.

 

"I don't know.   I found it in Peeta's things when I was..." he trails off and swallows visibly a few times.   "I thought he'd have wanted you to have it."

 

I nod and slip the envelope into the pocket of my coat.  "I'll read it later," I tell him.  "Do you think I might be able to buy some cheese buns?"  I ask, changing the subject.

 

Bing laughs.  "Of course you can!"

 

I smile at him.   He's a good man, newly engaged to his school sweetheart, Iris.  This was her last year of being eligible for being Reaped, so he proposed shortly before the Reaping in hope that her name wouldn't get called.   We get married young in Twelve.  Most of us don't live past fifty because of disease, the lack of food, the coal dust in the air, and Capitol cruelties.   It means that we're less likely to dawdle once our names will no longer get drawn from that big glass bowl.   

 

I hand him a coin and he pulls out fours cheese buns from the display, enough for me to share with Madge and her family.   He puts them in the bag and hands the bag to his father who slips something else in the bag before taking my coin and ringing me up.   He hands me back my change and I slip out of the door.   I don't want to be late for the start of the Games.

 

I get to the Mayor's house and knock on the door.   I could have just walked in, they are expecting me, but I don't feel comfortable barging in to someone else's home like that.   The Mayor answers and says, "Madge is helping Rachel in the kitchen.  I thought you'd like something  a little more substantial than bread."

 

"Thank you, but you didn't have to go to any trouble."

 

"It's no trouble for a friend of Madge's," he replies.

 

I hold up the bag.  "Then at least let me share what I got with you."

 

"What do you have in there?"

 

I smile.  "Cheese buns."

 

"Sounds delicious.   I'll be happy to accept the trade."  And I know he understands I can't be beholden to him or to anyone.  

 

I walk into the kitchen and give a smile to Madge, who is standing at the stove stirring something in a pot.   "What are you making?"  I ask.   Whatever is in the pot smells heavenly and my stomach gives a growl in anticipation. 

 

"Lamb stew," she replies.   "It's not quite the same as they have in the Capitol but it's still pretty good."

 

"You've had Capitol food?" I ask, surprised.

 

She shrugs.  "A few canned items that they send my father every New Year's for a job well done, or something like that."

 

"Ah.  Prim mentioned the food in her interview.   It's got to be better than here, right?"

 

Madge shrugs again.  "Maybe.  I'm pretty partial to some things here more."

 

I have an idea what she means.  No matter how good another cuisine is, there's something about home cooked food.  "I've got cheese buns to go with the stew."

 

"It's like you knew!" she says with a laugh.

 

"Or I was just craving warm cheesy goodness."

 

"The baby knew then.  Watch out Katniss, your kid's going to be psychic."

 

"Must be."  My stomach growls again.   I open the bag to put the buns on the plate and find that the baker has also included a few more of the iced cookies:  One for me and one for my mother.   I look at the icing and note that the flowers aren't as delicate as last time but I can't fault the baker for having a shakier hand.  I put them back in the bag and place the bag in my pocket so I won't forget it.  

 

I pick up my tray with the stew and bun on it and a mug of warm tea with milk in it and head back out to the viewing room.   When I'm seated, the Mayor turns on the television.  Unlike Mandatory Viewing at seven every day, the screen doesn't come on automatically at the start of the Games.  

 

It's a little before noon and the commentators are talking about their favorite moments from bloodbaths past.   Enobaria winner of the Sixty Second Games bashing in the skulls of two tributes in one blow comes up  a few times although there are a few other favorite moments.   I don't normally watch the bloodbath, waiting for the recap during Mandatory Viewing.  So I don't get the whole rehash of Games past then.   I eat my stew, which is as good as it smelled, and try not to lose my appetite as they describe a particularly gruesome death.  

 

At noon, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith appear on the screen and announce, "Happy Hunger Games!"

 

"Now, let's get our first look at this year's Arena," Caesar states and I lean in.   This is what could spell life or death for Prim.  The screen flickers and I let out a sigh of relief when I see that it's wooded hills with a small clearing where the Cornucopia is.  On the east side of the clearing is a large lake, obviously the main water source for the Arena, although I hope there are others for Prim's sake.   To the west lies a large field of some kind of grain.  There is a small cliff leading down to it so it isn't visible from the main clearing as easily.   The rest of the clearing is surrounded by woods and wooded hills.   Perfect for Prim's survival skills, I hope that there are plants there that she can eat and I note that there are reeds, willow, and cattails growing along the lake. 

 

I take this in quickly because my eyes are drawn to the opening of the twenty four pedestals equally spaced in a circle around the Cornucopia.   My eyes flick from tribute to tribute until I locate Prim.  She's in between the girl from Six and the boy from Three.   Good, neither are Careers.   That is good for Prim.  

 

Peeta is about four tributes to the left of her facing into the Cornucopia opening.   The platforms lock into place and the countdown starts.   For one agonizing minute, a full sixty seconds, the tributes have to stand there or be blown to bits by the mines surrounding the pedestals.   

 

Prim looks around frantically, calming visibly when she spots Peeta.  She gives him a little nod and starts looking at the array of supplies scattered around her.   Directly in front of her is a loaf of bread and just a little beyond that a pair of socks.   In front of the girl from Six, I spot a fishing kit and a piece of plastic.   Useful items, but not all that useful.   The closest backpack is closer to the head of the Cornucopia. 

 

The camera circles around the clearing, focusing in on each of the tributes in turn.   When the count reaches twenty, the screen splits to show a wide view of the four cardinal directions.   The tributes take their marks and wait for the gong to sound signaling the start of the Games.  

 

Ten seconds.

 

I find Prim on the screen.

 

Nine seconds.

 

I feel Madge take the tray of food away from me.

 

Eight seconds.  

 

A slight headshake from Peeta draws my eyes to him.  

 

Seven seconds.

 

He motions to the woods to one side of the clearing.

 

Six seconds.

 

Prim nods.

 

Five seconds.

 

I realize that they must have some kind of plan to meet up.

 

Four seconds. 

 

I see Prim clench her fists.

 

Three seconds.  

 

Peeta's eyes focus on the opening of the Cornucopia.

 

Two seconds.

 

The baby moves within me as if it is sensing my anxiousness.

 

One second.

 

I draw deep breath.

 

The gong sounds and chaos erupts on the screen.  Tributes are running every which way, some to the Cornucopia some away.  The girl from Five is the first to make it to the trees and the relative safety therein.  

 

I struggle to find Prim on the split screen cacophony.   I find her and try not to take my eyes off of her.   As I expected, she's making a beeline for the woods, but taking enough time to try to pick up a few random items here and there.   So far I see she's gotten the bread and the socks when my attention is drawn away from her by the cries of the announcers.

 

The first battle at the Cornucopia is taking place between Reef and Thresh.   Reef has managed to get his hands on a hunting knife and is lashing out at the much larger boy.   It must rankle knowing that a non-Career scored higher than he did.  Now, he's got something to prove.   He swipes his knife across the dark skinned boy's bicep and smiles when he sees he's drawn blood.   He takes a step back to gloat and that is his undoing.  Thresh swats the knife out of his hand and picks the smaller boy up into a crushing bear hug.   With a calculated jerk, he breaks Reef's back.  The body falls limply to the ground and Thresh goes about picking up whatever supplies he wants before taking off for the cliff edge and the grain field beyond.  

 

The Careers who saw Reef go down are in shock and it gives some of the other tributes time to grab a few supplies and go.   Little Rue's managed to score a bright orange backpack thanks to the distraction while Prim's grabbed the items from in front of Grata's pedestal.   The poor girl from Six is still on the raised circle, just crying softly to herself.   Prim gives her a sympathetic glance but keeps moving.

 

This is smart because by this time the rest of the Careers have reached the opening of the Cornucopia, as has Peeta.  I see that Peeta is grabbing several packs of supplies while the Careers bypass him  to grab weapons then start in on the weaker tributes who haven't managed to clear out from the Cornucopia mouth.  

 

Coil goes down with a knife in the head courtesy of Clove.  I can see that her skill with those knives must be why she got a ten in training.   The boy from Seven, Elm, grabs an axe and wheels around to find someone to attack with it only to find an arrow shaft protruding from his belly,  He touches the fletching and looks up to see Glimmer standing in the opening of the Cornucopia with a bow and arrows.   He keels over curling around the shaft and Glimmer smirks.   I was right, beautiful and deadly.   

 

Cato grabs a short sword and looks around for a target.   The girl from Three, Radi, is struggling with a pack that's partially weighed down by Elm's body.   The Career from Two sprints towards her and before she can manage to scream, runs her through the chest.   He looks up from his kill and finds Clove's eyes and gives her a quick smile. 

 

She returns it then her focus is back on the chaos around her.   Noticing a few of the outlying tributes, Clove moves to try to get a good shot.   I suck in my breath when her eyes alight on Prim.   She smirks and draws out a knife and aims it.   As the knife leaves her hand, Prim bends down to grab a small pouch and the knife sails over her head and into the grass beyond.   I swear I can hear Clove gnashing her teeth in frustration.   She pulls out another knife when a shout from the girl from Four distracts her.  

 

Thankfully, Prim seems to think that she's accrued enough supplies and takes off for the woods.   I notice that the tributes around the Cornucopia have thinned considerably.   Other than Uranium, Thresh and Prim, I can see that Clint from Ten, both tributes from Nine, and the female Taylor from Eight have also cleared out.   Rue's been hanging out on the edges of the clearing and when Prim enters the woods she follows her.   My heart sinks.

 

But the cameras won't move from the Cornucopia, I'll have to wait until either something spectacular happens with Rue and Prim or the bloodbath ends to find out how my sister is doing.

 

My attention is now focused on Peeta.   He's grabbed lots of supplies and stuffed them into one large back frame.   Unfortunately, with the smaller pool of tributes the Careers can no longer ignore him.    Coral and Clove corner him against the Cornucopia.  Clove flings a knife which he moves his pack up to deflect the flying weapon.  

 

Coral rushes in at him, a knife aimed low at his gut.   Peeta steps to one side and grabs her arm.  Then in a move I saw him perform in a wrestling match, he turns Coral's arm back in on itself.   The knife enters her belly and she lets out a cry.   Peeta finishes her off with a chop to the back of her neck, forcing Coral onto the hard ground and the knife further into her stomach.  

 

Clove's eyes widen and she rushes Peeta, hoping to take him out while he's winded from his fight with Coral.   Luckily, he sees her coming and grabs her arm and spins, flinging her into the side of the Cornucopia.   Clove is clearly dazed and slumps to the ground unconscious or dead, I'm not sure which.  We won't know who survived until the end of the bloodbath and the commentators give us a list in order of who died.  Meanwhile, Peeta takes the opportunity to grab the bundle of knives out of her other hand then he hoists his pack onto his back.  Making sure that no one else is going to attack him, he sprints off to the woods a little to the left of where Prim entered.  

 

On the other side of the Cornucopia, Marvel is toying with the male Taylor from District Eight.   He's jabbing the poor boy with a spear.  Nothing fatal.  Just painful.  With each jab, Marvel laughs and cracks some crude joke.   I feel the lamb stew considering making a reappearance.   I turn away from the screen and take a careful sip of my tea.   I hate the Careers.   Now that I'm no longer so focused on the action on the television, I can actually hear the announcers' comments.  

 

They are going on and on over the fact that two Careers have fallen so early.   Caesar even comments that no one from Districts One, Two, or Four have fallen first in over forty five years.   I'm sure that back in District Four the families of those two tributes are feeling embarrassed and ashamed, but here in Twelve I just feel relief.   That's two less threats for Prim to take on.  

 

My stomach settles enough for me to turn back to the screen.   Only a few tributes remain at the Cornucopia.   Ford, the boy from Six, falls with an axe to the back courtesy of Tacoma.  He'd been trying to pull his district partner, Grata, from her pedestal where she'd been frozen crying the whole time.  She's finally killed by Cato who calmly walks up to her and skewers her through the heart.  

 

Tacoma readies another throwing axe to try to take out Cato but notices Marvel charging at her.   She makes a rude gesture at the handsome boy from One and sprints off into the woods.     

 

And with the departure of Tacoma, the bloodbath is over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written as part of NaNoWriMo in November of 2012
> 
> Revised 7/13/13 
> 
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> I don't think Gale would handle the revelation that the person he considers his girl kissed another man. Never mind that Peeta kissed her and didn't really give her a vote. He's a lot more possessive here and Katniss doesn't handle that well. Their relationship was already strained before the start of this fic but I think that this pretty much doomed it. He isn't going away entirely, but he's going to feature a lot less in this fic. He'll be back later.
> 
> Now for something new that you will see for the duration of the Games. Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> 1\. Reef, District Four, Killed by Thresh, Broken Back  
> 2\. Coil, District Five, Killed by Clove, Knife to the Head  
> 3\. Elm, District Seven, Killed by Glimmer, Arrow to the Gut  
> 4\. Radi, District Three, Killed by Cato, Sword to the Chest  
> 5\. Coral, District Four, Killed by Peeta, Knife to the Gut  
> 6\. Taylor (male), District Eight, Killed by Marvel, Spear to the Back  
> 7\. Ford, District Six, Killed by Tacoma, Axe to the Back  
> 8\. Grata, District Six, Killed by Cato, Sword to the Chest
> 
> This will help you and me keep track of who all is left. As for Clove, we'll find out her fate in the next chapter. She's not dead, yet. But she's not quite up for going for a walk.
> 
> Up Next: The Aftermath of the Bloodbath


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

 

I sit back on the couch as the cannons sound eight times indicating how many tributes perished during the bloodbath.   Absently, I stroke my protruding stomach.  I find myself doing that more and more lately as the baby has begun to move.   It doesn't move a lot and it's barely enough to really feel through my skin, but even so it's still enough that I know what I'm feeling.  

 

My eyes drift back to the Careers are who pulling the dead tributes off to one side where the hovercrafts can collect the bodies without accidentally scooping up any of the scattered supplies.   Glimmer lets out a cry of dismay when she finds Coral and Clove, attracting Cato and Marvel's attention.  Stopping what they were doing, both sprint over to where the blond girl is standing.  

 

When Cato spots Clove, the whole vicious killer falls away and I'm suddenly reminded that this hulking boy from Two is just another victim of the Capitol who's being forced to watch their loved one suffer and die in the Games.   He runs up to her crumpled form and gathers her into his arms, pleading for her not to leave him.   He rocks her back and forth, smoothing her hair and whispering her name over and over. 

 

Beside me, I can see tears forming in Madge's eyes and I too find it hard to remain unaffected.  He clearly loves her and it's hard watching such raw emotion without feeling something.  

 

Marvel is the first to notice that Clove is still breathing and points it out to Cato.   The blond boy looks up at his ally blankly, then places two fingers on the pulse point in her neck.   The relief he feels when he finds it is clearly visible on his face.   Clove is alive.  Unconscious, but alive.   I'm torn, part of me is relieved with him, but the other part is disappointed that the Career Pack is only down two members instead of three.  

 

I can only imagine how the Capitol is eating this up.  

 

Glimmer and Marvel finish the dead tribute removal while Cato starts setting up camp down near the edge of the lake.   He unrolls a sleeping bag and places Clove on top of it gently.  Then, he erects a large canopy over her to keep her out of the sun.  

 

Their gruesome duty finished, Glimmer and Marvel start moving supplies out of the Cornucopia and into a large pile near the makeshift camp Cato has constructed.   Weapons, clothing, food, whatever wasn't grabbed by the other tributes is all carefully collected and brought back to camp.  

 

I'm wondering why the cameras are still lingering on the camp since they normally play back the bloodbath in slow motion about now, when Glimmer freezes briefly in mid bend. She picks up the packet of dried fruit with exaggerated casualness and I know that she's spotted something or more likely someone.

 

As if the Gamemakers are reading my mind, the camera cuts to the girl from District Nine, Ceres.  She's crouched under a bush holding a hunting knife in one hand and watching the activity in the clearing with bright eyes.   She must be waiting for the Careers to either go hunting for the other tributes so she can dart in and steal supplies or take out the person they leave behind or even just wait until nightfall when most of them will be sleeping and she could get the drop on them.   It's not a bad strategy, if she were better at hiding.  The way she's holding the knife tells me that what Glimmer likely saw was the sunlight reflecting off of the metal.  

 

Glimmer takes the fruit back to camp then crouches down next to where Cato is tending to Clove.   I can't hear it, but I'm sure she's telling him about the hidden tribute.   They fuss about Clove while waiting for Marvel to rejoin them.   When he does, they make a show of opening one of the packs and examining the contents.   Then. Cato asks loudly if they'd seen any first aid kits in their searches.   

 

"I think I saw one over there," Glimmer replies, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the hiding tribute.  

 

"I'll get it," Marvel volunteers.  

 

Cato looks like he wants to object but then Clove stirs and his eyes go to her.    Marvel takes that as permission and grabs his spear and feigns using it like a walking stick.   He gets within a few feet of where Ceres is hiding and then suddenly lunges forward and stabs down into the bush she's hiding in.

 

And misses.

 

Ceres screams in terror and lashes out with her knife.   She grazes his shin and draws a thin line of blood.   Marvel grunts and pulls back his spear, adjusts his aim, and thrusts it back into the bush.   He scores a hit, skewering her through the leg.   Ceres' screams turn from fear into pain.   Marvel presses his advantage, jerking the weapon out and then bringing it back down again.   This time it's fatal, slicing into Ceres' neck and severing her jugular.   She dies quickly and her cannon sounds.  

 

Another tribute down.   Fourteen more to go before Prim can come home.  

 

Marvel saunters back to the other three.  "I made her squeal like a pig!"

 

"Ugh!  Do you always have to play with your kills?   It's annoying," Glimmer says, rolling her eyes. 

 

"Aww, I'm just drawing out the fun," Marvel pouts.  "Nothing wrong with that."

 

Glimmer rolls her eyes again and turns to Cato.  "How is she?"

 

The blond boy checks her vitals and pulls up one of her eyelids.   "I think she's going to be okay.  I don't think she's got a concussion," he sounds worried.   "She'll probably wake up in a few hours.   Any clue who did this to her?" his voice lowers dangerously.  

 

"Not me, bro," Marvel denies quickly.  "I was too busy chasing down the meat.  To pay any attention to you guys."

 

Glimmer shakes her head.  "I don't know either."

 

"I know," a voice calls from several feet away.  

 

The three Careers start.   Almost as one they whirl, their hands reaching for weapons.  

 

"Who said that?" Cato demands, brandishing a short sword.  

 

Axel, the boy from Three, steps out from behind a tree.  In his hands are what appear to be two wires held carefully apart.   "I did."

 

"Oh goodie, another toy to play with," Marvel says with a grin.

 

Axel gives him a disdainful look.  "Go ahead and try it, One.  You really didn't think I'd be standing here talking to you if I didn't have a way to take you all out."

 

"How?" Glimmer asks.

 

"Trade secret," he says with a smirk. 

 

Cato steps in front of the other two, motioning for them to back down.   "You said you saw who hurt Clove."

 

"Finally someone comes to their senses," he mutters to himself.  He regards Cato levelly before nodding.  "I did see who took her down.  But before I tell you, let me tell you what I want."

 

Cato's eyes narrow.  "And what is that?"  His voice is low and menacing.

 

Axel's smirk widens.  "I want to join your alliance."

 

The three all exchange glances.  Allying with the non-Career districts is almost unheard of.   "What can you offer us?"  Cato asks warily.  

 

Axel nods toward the supply pile.   "You fond of those?   I can guard them for you while you hunt down the other tributes."

 

"And what's going to stop the other tributes from killing you?  You aren't exactly the weapons type," Glimmer points out.

 

"Maybe I should have phrased it a little differently.  I won't be guarding the supplies personally, but I can create something that will pack quite a surprise if someone comes by and tries to take anything."

 

"Oh yeah?  And what's that?" Marvel wants to know.  

 

The boy from Three regards the taller boy coolly. "Remember the mines that surround each pedestal?"

 

Glimmer nods.  "Yeah.  So what?"

 

The smirk turns into a full on feral grin.  "My father designed them."

 

"Too bad your father isn't here," Marvel says snidely.

 

"And he showed me how to reactivate them," Axel continues as if he hadn't been interrupted, although the boy from Three does roll his eyes at Marvel's obliviousness.   "I can set them up around the supply pile and that way we all can go hunting or get some sleep without having to worry about someone sneaking in and stealing our stuff."

 

"Our?" Marvel asks.

 

"We're going to be allies, right?  It's either this or Lover Boy never knows who hurt his lady fair," Axel pulls out his trump card.  

 

The three Careers exchange another series of looks with the two from District One shrugging after a few moments.   It's Cato's call.  

 

The boy from Two doesn't take very long to decide.  "Fine.  We're allies," Cato agrees.   "Now tell me, who hurt Clove?"

 

Axel smiles wider, it isn't a pretty smile.  "The boy from Twelve, Peeta.   Took out the girl from Four too," he adds.

 

Cato growls low in his throat and turns to address Glimmer and Marvel. "Peeta's mine.  I'm gonna kill him for even thinking of touching Clove."

 

"Fine, whatever.  Can we eat now?" Marvel asks.  

 

Glimmer nods and starts pulling out cans of soup from one of the crates of supplies.   From the edge of the clearing, Axel rolls up the wire he is holding carefully.   The commentators state the obvious, saying that One, Two and Three, have never allied before and that this is a first.   Of course it is, One and Two generally kill Three.  

 

"Hold on a moment, folks," Caesar says, interrupting Claudius waxing poetic about the beauty of the Games bringing Panem together.  "I'm getting word that something exciting is going down elsewhere in the Arena."

 

Part of me hopes it's Prim, but a larger part of me wishes it isn't.  This early in the Games only two things pull the action away from the Career Pack: imminent death or  secondary alliance forming.   It's rarely the latter.

 

The screen cuts to a small clearing, surrounded by a large stand of oak, birch and maple.   Prim is seated with her back against a huge sweet birch.  Her eyes are warily watching the forest around her.    I can see she's got a small pouch of things that she'd managed to grab from the Cornucopia tied to her belt.  I wish I knew what she had, but I can't make much out through the fabric.   I wonder why the Gamemakers switched to her when she whistles out a simple four note tune.    She waits for the nearby mockingjays to pick it up and carry it from tree to tree.   Then, when the song dies down, she repeats the process.  

 

She's obviously calling for someone, probably Peeta, to come find her.   The melody is short enough that the mockingjays will pick it up but it's not so elaborate to be thought of as anything other than an odd bird's cry.   Considering the mutts that are sure to be in the Arena, it isn't too far of a stretch to assume that at least one is avian in nature.   It isn't a bad strategy for hooking up after the chaos of the bloodbath.

 

Still, even this strategy wouldn't be enough to pull the action away from the Careers.   I'm searching what I can see of the woods when there is the loud sound of a twig snapping.   Prim's head whips in that direction and she carefully stands up without making any noise.  

 

Good girl, I think, until you know if it's friend or foe assume it's foe.  

 

"Well, well, what have we here?" a low female voice calls out.   "A scared little lamb, hiding under a tree."  The girl steps out into the sunlight revealing Piper from District Ten.   "Where's big brother?" she asks, looking around the clearing.

 

"He's close." Prim bluffs.  I'm guessing they are talking about Peeta . 

 

Piper tilts her head from side to side.  "I think you're lying, little lamb."  She drops a pack from her shoulder and pulls out a knife.   "I think you're all alone and helpless.   You know what we do to lambs back in Ten?"  She stalks closer, her eyes never leaving my sister's form.  

 

"What?" Prim asks while edging away from the predatory girl.  

 

Piper bares her teeth. "We butcher them for the Capitol's pleasure."

 

"Poor lambs," Prim whispers, backing further away from her tree.    The two circle the clearing until Prim is under a maple that doesn't look too hard to climb.   If she can get a good jump, she might be able to get high enough fast enough to get out of Piper's reach.   

 

Piper doesn't seem to realize this and seems willing to keep talking.   Probably hoping to put on a good show to get sponsors.  

 

The girl from Ten makes a come hither motion.  "Why don't you come over here, little lamb, and I promise it will be quick and painless."

 

Prim shakes her head and then freezes as if she's noticed something.  She opens her mouth to say something but only the faintest whisper comes out. 

  
"What was that?"  Piper asks, and the camera cuts back to her.   Then I see it, the golden body shaped like a large wasp.  Tracker jackers. 

 

Caesar and Claudius break in to explain to the audience what the insects are as well as their lethality.   But I tune them out partway through their explanation.  I don't need them to tell me how dangerous they are, I already know.    

 

It's clear from the expression on Prim's face, she's seen them too and knows what they can do.   She tries again to get the words, likely a warning, out but fails.   I can understand why, tracker jackers are attracted to loud sounds and once they decide that you're their prey, you can't escape them.  

 

The commentators become quiet and all I hear is Prim's four note tune echo from the mockingjays. 

 

Piper takes a step forward.

 

Prim takes a step back.

 

Another step forward.

 

A step to the side. 

 

CRACK!

 

The whole nest of tracker jackers falls to the ground behind Piper.   The screen erupts into chaos.

 

The insects, enraged by the fall, home in on Piper and start stinging her mercilessly.   The girl from Ten shrieks, dropping her knife as she flees the genetically engineered wasps.  

 

Prim, on the other side of the clearing, also flees.  However, she takes the out I expected, climbing the maple.   So far none of the insects have targeted her but she isn't taking any chances.   She climbs until she is so high up in the branches that they're beginning to groan and crack under her weight.  But she's clear of the swarm.

 

Piper doesn't make twenty steps before she collapses to the forest floor.  

 

A cannon sounds.  

 

The wasps continue stinging the girl long after she is dead.   The corpse retrieval hovercraft comes to take the body but before they winch it up, someone inside drops a canister of smoke down beside the body.    Almost as one, the tracker jackers drop to the ground around the dead tribute.  The killers now as lifeless as their victim.   Once the hovercraft crew is convinced it's safe, the claw lifts the girl from Ten's bloated and mutilated corpse into it.  

 

The cameras cut back to Prim who's watching the whole thing with wide eyes.  I can see she's shaking, from adrenaline or shock I don't know.   

 

The four note theme repeats.  Prim seems to shake herself and looks around.   The tune plays again and this time it is very clear that it's a human whistle and not a bird call.  

 

"Peeta?  Rue?"  Prim asks, then shakes her head.   She returns the four note theme, peering through the branches expectantly.

 

"You okay?" a girl's voice asks and the camera zooms in on the little girl from Eleven, who's perched in the tree beside Prim's.

 

"Yeah," Prim replies. 

 

"You didn't get stung, did you?" the little girl asks.  

 

Prim shakes her head.  "I don't think so.  I would have felt it, right?"

 

Rue nods solemnly.   "Oh yeah, you would have felt it.   We got them in the orchards back home.  Every month or so someone gets stung and they holler up a storm.  See things too.   There's leaves that help with the stings, but I haven't seen any yet."

 

"I'm lucky the nest didn't drop on me," my sister says earnestly.

 

The girl from Eleven pulls out a slingshot.  "Luck didn't have anything to do with it."

 

Prim's eyes widen.  "You did that?   I owe you my life."

 

"You'd have done the same for me," Rue says, shrugging it off.   "We should get down from here and go grab her pack and knife.   No use letting them go to waste or having someone else find them."

 

Nodding at the girl's words, Prim starts to descend.   "Have you seen Peeta?" she asks as she climbs down.

 

"No," Rue answers.  

 

"I hope he made it," Prim says worriedly.   "Haymitch told us to avoid the Cornucopia but I know Peeta was going in for supplies."

 

"He'll be fine," Rue soothes.   "He's stronger than anyone other than Thresh and he's fast too.   He probably just got lost."

 

"I hope so."

 

The girls reach the forest floor and carefully walk over to the girl from Ten's bag.   They scoop it up but don't open it.  Not yet.  Handing Prim her bag, Rue grabs a long forked branch and uses it to pull the knife to her so as to avoid getting stung by any lingering tracker jackers. That's really smart.  

 

I find myself liking the girl from Eleven.  She's resourceful and reminds me of Prim in a way.   It's likely their build and walk, on their toes like they are about to take off into flight, that are so similar but it is other things too.   Like their identical expressions of curiosity as to what Piper's bag contains, that drive the similarity home.  

 

The two girls move deeper into the forest until they find a fallen tree that has a little hollow under it.   They plop down and pull out both packs and Prim's pouch.   I smile.   Now I can see what kind of supplies my sister netted for herself.  

 

The loaf of bread comes out first and Prim tears a hunk off and then divides that hunk into two, offering the larger piece to Rue.   The two chew their bread while inventorying the rest of their supplies.   In Rue's pack, she has a thin black sleeping bag, a pack of crackers, a pack of dried beef strips, a bottle of iodine, a pack of wooden matches, a small coil of wire, an empty half gallon plastic jug, and a pair of strange glasses.   Rue lets out a little happy cry at the glasses.

 

"What is it?" Prim asks. 

 

"Night vision goggles. We have them back in Eleven to help with harvest when it's dark."

 

Prim nods but I can tell by her expression she has no idea what Rue means.  

 

Prim's pouch is up next.   My sister has managed to gather in addition to the bread, a pair of warm woolen socks, a square of plastic, a small plastic case holding four fishhooks and one lure, a small sewing kit with needle and thread, a pack of dried fruit, and in the pouch that almost got her killed by Clove is a roll of bandages, a few packs of salve, and a little bottle of pain reliever.   Prim grabbed a first aid pouch.  That is great since hopefully some of those little pouches contain anti-bacterial ointment or maybe even burn creme.  

 

They open up Piper's pack next.   She's got another thin sleeping bag, a coil of rope, a pack of paper matches, an empty liter bottle, a bottle of iodine, and a pack of dried prunes.   Not quite as good as Rue's pack, but it's not bright orange either.   The dark green color will blend in better.   They don't have any weapons other than Piper's knife and Rue's slingshot.   Rue hands the former to Prim in a gesture of trust that has me forming a lump in my throat.  

 

The two girls divvy up the supplies between the two packs and work on covering Rue's with dirt and mud to disguise the bright color.  

 

A light, tinkling sound distracts the girls from their task and they look up in surprise.

 

"A sponsorship gift?" Rue asks.   "Already?"

 

"I hope it's water," Prim says, watching it float down.  "I'm so thirsty, we haven't run into anything you don't think the lake's the only source do you?"

 

Rue grimaces.  "Wouldn't surprise me.   Keep the tributes confined to a smaller area so we can get killed faster."  She pauses.  "I think that's a twelve on the parachute."

 

"For me?"  Prim's voice is excited.  "I wonder what it could be."   The silver parachute settles at Prim's feet and she picks up the little metal box.   Once she touches it, the beacon stops making noise.   Good, that could lead danger to them, I think.   She opens the latch and inside is the ball of string I'd told Haymitch to order.   It fits in her palm comfortably and she looks at it with an odd expression on her face.

 

"String?" Rue asks.   "Why'd your mentor send you string?"

 

"I don't think this was Haymitch's idea," Prim says absently. 

 

"Whose was it then?  You don't have any other mentors."

 

"I think my sister, Katniss, sent me this."

 

"String?" Rue asks again incredulously.

 

"It's similar to the kind we use to make nets and snares back home."  Prim smiles.  "She knows I make better nets than her, if we can find water and it's got fish in it we aren't going to go hungry."

 

Rue seems to consider it.  "Well, then I guess we owe your sister a thank you."

 

Prim nods and looks up at the sky.  "Thank you, Katniss.  I don't know what you had to do to get me this but thank you and everyone who helped you.  I'll make good use of it."

 

I smile, my sister has gotten my gift and knows what to do with it.   I'm happy.  

 

"I'm glad she's got a friend in there," Madge says.  

 

I look over at her.  "There aren't friends in the Hunger Games.  You know that."

 

"You think she does?"  Madge asks quietly.  

 

I sigh and shake my head.  I know she's right, Prim probably thinks of both Rue and Peeta as her friends, not as obstacles to her coming home.   I hope she doesn't have to kill them because I think that would break her.  

 

"Come on," Rue says.  "We should keep moving.  Find water."

 

Prim nods and bites her lower lip.   "Water normally flows downhill.   So we should go down."

 

Rue looks around.  "Which way is down?"

 

Prim shrugs.  "I don't know, but I know a way to check."   She hands Rue her pack and starts climbing a tree.   She scales it nearly to the top before looking around.   From her vantage, she should be able to see the subtle contours of the earth better than from down on the ground.   It's something I showed her how to do if she was lost in the woods to find her way.  I'm glad to see her using that knowledge now.  

 

She shimmies down and points off to one direction.  "That way seems to be lower than others."

 

"Do you know where the Cornucopia is?"

 

"I think so," she says with a nod. 

 

"We're going to want to stay away from there."

 

"Agreed."

 

"Did you see any sign of your partner while you were up there?"

 

Prim shakes her head.   "I hope he's alright."

 

"We should find water or another clearing and then start calling for him."

 

"Your whistling idea was a good one," Prim compliments.

 

Rue gives her a little hug.  "I found you, didn't I?"

 

"Just in time too!"

 

"Come on, let's go!"

 

The camera follows them through the woods a little then cuts to Caesar and Claudius.  

 

"Isn't that just the sweetest thing you've seen?"  Caesar asks.

 

"Oh my, yes!" Claudius agrees.  "Our two youngest tributes teaming up."

 

"And young Prim is the first to get a sponsorship gift.  From the sister she volunteered for, no less."

 

Claudius sniffs.  "That just warms my heart.  I wonder if she'll send anything to her boyfriend, Peeta, who's also in the Arena."

 

The screen cuts to Peeta, who's walking through the woods.   I can see that he's near the clearing that Rue and Prim were at earlier.   But because of the weight of the large back frame he's carrying, he's moving slower to try to avoid making too much noise.   Not that it's helping much.  I can still hear every one of his footsteps.  He still scaring away any game that's around him.   I'm half grateful that I'm not in there with him because I'd be so frustrated with his inability to walk silently.  Or maybe not. 

 

He's wearing the gold mockingjay pin Madge gave me and I can see it glinting in the sunlight.   

"So that's what you did with it," Madge says when she sees the pin.  

 

I feel a twinge of guilt.  "I hope you don't mind.  I should have given it to Prim but I didn't remember I had it until I was in visiting with him.   I wanted to give him something.  So I wouldn't owe him quite so much."

 

"It's okay.   I gave the pin to you.  It was a gift.  You can give to whoever you want."

 

A weight I didn't know I had lifts at Madge's words.   "Thanks."  

 

The camera zooms in and now I can tell he's been crying, there are tear tracks on his cheeks and his eyes are still red.   I'm confused and apparently I'm not the only one.   The announcers find it odd as well.

 

"It's because he killed that girl from Four," Madge says to the screen.

 

"What?" I ask, looking at her.

 

She smiles at me.  "You don't know him as well as I do, but we used to play together as children, me, Delly and Peeta.   He'd never tear the heads off our paper dolls like his brother Farl did.   And when Farl did, Peeta'd always try to find tape to put them back together again.  He's gentle.  Kind.  Like his dad.   He's not a killer."

 

"The Games made him one," I point out.

 

"I know," she says sadly.   "But I don't have to like it and neither does he."

 

I nod in agreement.   No, we don't have to like it.  We just have to watch it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written as Part of NaNoWriMo in November of 2012.  
> Revised 7/18/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> 9\. Ceres, District Nine, Killed by Marvel, Spear to the Neck  
> 10\. Piper, District Ten, Killed by Rue, Dropped a Tracker Jacker Nest Behind Her
> 
> Up Next: The Envelope is opened and We find out what the rest of the tributes have been up to.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

 

The camera flits between Rue and Prim and the Career Pack for a while, before the Gamemakers decide to show a slow motion recap of the bloodbath.  Madge flicks off the screen and I stand up, stretching my back and hearing it pop loudly.   It's been five hours since the Games began and I should be getting home.   I thank Madge for allowing me to watch the start of the Games with her and she waves me off.

 

"You're my friend, Katniss.  The only real one I have.  It's what friends do, right?"

 

"Still, I appreciate it."

 

"It's okay.  How about this?  We'll watch the Games tomorrow at your house.  I'll bring the bread, if you'll make the soup.  That way we can be even."

 

I smile at her.  For a merchant kid, she understands the complex system of debt in the Seam.   She knows I don't like being in debt to anyone and she's giving me an out.  "The food won't be as good," I warn. 

 

She waves a hand.  "Pfft!  It'll be fine."

 

"Thanks again.  I'll see you tomorrow."

 

She shows me to the door and gives me a quick hug.  I'm not normally a hugging kind of person, but I accept it.   She seems to need it and she's right, we are friends.   She didn't have to watch with me today and I know the only reason why she's doing it is because she cares.  We just don't voluntarily watch the Games in Twelve.  Then I'm forced to revise that thought, because there are those few outcasts who do.  They're the same people who bet on whose name will be called at the Reaping.   

 

My mother is home when I get there.  She's kneading tesserae bread and I can see that there are pots of various things cooking on the stove.

 

"Whatcha making?"  I ask while taking off my boots.

 

She answers without looking up.   "Bread, soup and pickles."

 

"What kind of soup?"

 

"Fish."

 

"And what kind of pickles?"

 

"Fish," she says, looking up at me with a smile.  

 

"So that's the smell."  Then something she says strikes me.  We'd canned and preserved everything from my trips from the forest yesterday and all of the fish I'd gotten were now pickled and sitting in clear glass jars along the shelf over the sink.  "Where'd you get the fish?" I ask.

 

My mother sighs, as if she knows I'm not going to like the answer.  "Gale brought them."

 

And she's right.  My temper flares.  "I told him, I didn't need his help!"

 

"Katniss..." my mother tries but I ignore her.

 

"I'm going to take his guilt fish back to him along with a piece of my mind."  I move back toward  my boots and the door. 

 

"You are going to do no such thing!" my mother snaps.   "The fish were a peace offering.   To me.  Not you.  Gale was apologizing to me."

 

"Why would he do that?"

 

"Because Hazelle told him to, I expect.  Or maybe he realized he owed me an apology after how he's been these last few months."

 

"He owes me one too," I say a little petulantly.  

 

"Yes," she agrees.  "But yours is a little harder for him.  He doesn't know what to say that won't set you off and he's too proud to fully admit he screwed up with you.  You're both so alike."

 

"I know," I say with a nod.  "It's why it hurts so much that we aren't friends and he can't understand why I don't want to have him be anything more than a friend."

 

"He doesn't understand because he doesn't want to understand," she says cryptically.   "So, are you hungry now or do you want to wait for the stew and bread to be ready?"

 

I could eat, but I'm actually more tired than hungry.   "I can wait.  I think I'm going to take a nap."

 

She nods, going back to her kneading.  

 

The bread dough reminds me of something, and I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the bag of cookies.  "Before I forget, the baker gave me these."

 

"What are they?" she asks.

 

"Cookies.  With our flowers on them."

 

My mother sighed.  "Matz is a good man.   But he needs to stop trying so hard."

 

I'm confused but I continue.  "He also gave me an envelope from Peeta."

 

"What was in it?"

 

"I don't know.  I haven't opened it yet." 

 

She nods in understanding.   Without knowing what's inside, I don't want to open it in public.   I go back to my jacket and pull the envelope out.  In slanted block letter is my name written in light pencil.   The envelope is the size of one of the greeting cards that the stationer sells in town, probably reused from either a birthday or New Year's card.  

 

I sit down at the table and look at it nervously.   I'm afraid there's going to be some kind of love letter or other dramatic demonstration of love.   I open the flap which is just tucked in and pull out the contents of the envelope: six scraps of paper.   The smallest is no bigger than my palm and appears to be the corner of a larger sheet of paper.  The largest is maybe the size of a piece of stationary - carefully folded in half once and slipped inside.  

 

I pick up the smallest one first.   It's a faint pencil sketch of a little girl in a checkered dress with two braids singing.   The little girl appears to be no more than five or six and she's got a sweet expression on her face. 

 

Putting it to the side, I pull another slip to me.   This one has a girl on it with a long braid seated at a school desk looking out the window.   The girl seems familiar to me.  When I pull the third over, a rough sketch of a pre-teen girl picking a dandelion, it hits me.  The sketches are of me!

 

The fourth picture is of me, huddled in the rain, starving and dying on the day he gave me the bread.   There's one of me leaning against the bakery counter in the workroom rubbing my slightly protruding stomach lightly.   That one must have been sketched right before the Reaping.  I only started to show about three weeks ago. 

 

All that's left is the largest piece of paper.  With shaking hands, I open it.   It's not a letter like I'd thought, but one last sketch.  The only one with more than just me in the picture.   It's got to be the last day of school this year because Prim and I are both wearing short sleeves.   She's looking up at me with her hair in twin braids laughing and I'm looking down at her and smiling.   You can clearly see the contentment and love between Prim and me and I let out a choked sob.

 

My mother comes over to see what's wrong and she too lets out a gasp.   "Where did you get these?" she asks.

 

"They were in the envelope Peeta left."

 

"They're lovely.   Do you think he drew them?"

 

"He must have.   I don't know who else would."

 

My mother touches the one of me singing when I was a little girl.   "I remember that dress.  Your first day of school.   I had to fight to get you into it.   You wore it once and then never again."

 

"I'm not a dress kind of girl,"  I say wryly. 

 

"Or maybe it wasn't the right kind of dress.  It doesn't matter."

 

I look through the sketches again.  "I don't think he meant for me to have these.  They feel personal.  Private."

 

"It had your name on it," she points out practically.

 

I flip the envelope over and run my fingers over the lettering.   "I think it was more a label than a delivery request."

 

"Maybe, but what do you want to do about it now?"

 

I stare down at the pictures.   "I don't know.  It doesn't feel right to keep them.  Still, at the same time I don't think I can just go give them back to the baker."

 

"So throw them out."

 

The suggestion sickens me.  Especially in regards to the picture he drew of me and Prim.   We don't have cameras in the Seam and only a few people have them at all in Twelve.   If for some reason Prim doesn't make it, I want something to remind me of her in happier times.  

 

"That doesn't feel right either," I say.

 

"I didn't think it would.  But you just can't sit there forever staring at them."

 

I look at the picture of Prim and me and ask, "Do you think he'd mind if we hang these up?"

 

My mother smiles.   "I think he'd like that."

 

I carefully tack up the six pictures on one wall.  They would look better framed, but this will have to do for now.   I step back and am unable to suppress a large yawn.

 

"Take a nap, Katniss."

 

"I don't want to miss anything."

 

My mother nods at the screen.   "They're still showing recaps.   Occasionally flashing up to the kids in the Cornucopia clearing.  But mostly it's all recaps and a few interviews with former victors about who they think are the favorites."

 

"Any surprises?"

 

She shrugs.  "Finnick Odair is picking Peeta to win."

 

"That's probably because he took out Finnick's tribute," I point out.

 

"Maybe.  But it's still the most interesting.  The rest of the victors interviewed are going with Cato or Glimmer."

 

"Not Marvel or Clove?"

 

"No.   Enobaria thinks that Clove is weak and should be put down now before she weakens Cato further.  And Cashmere and Gloss are both praising Glimmer's skill with the bow and her ability to hold the alliance together."

 

I wrinkle my nose thinking of Glimmer's shooting earlier. "She's not that good of an archer."

 

"Not compared to you or your father."

 

I snort.   "Prim's better than her.   That was an easy shot to the body from fairly close."

 

"Still, they don't know that.  Go get some sleep, I'll wake you if they go back to Prim or if Mandatory Viewing comes on."

 

I nod and slip into my bed, almost as soon as my head hits the pillow I am asleep.  My dreams are filled with visions of Prim shooting the boy from Seven and Peeta crying.   It is disturbing and not all that restful.

 

My mother shakes me awake to tell me that it's time for me to wake up.  Mandatory Viewing is about to start and dinner is ready.  

 

I nod and rub the sleep from my eyes.   I'm suddenly ravenous anyway.   It's strange being pregnant.  I go from food sounding disgusting to suddenly wanting to eat everything.   I'm so used to always being hungry that the latter is not that unusual but the not wanting to eat is.   I raise one arm and look at it.  I can see my veins blue and thin under my skin even with the light tan that I've picked up from being outside.   I can also see very clearly the bones in my wrists and hands.   I know I'm too thin.   Almost dangerously thin.  But I can't seem to put on weight.

 

I get up and go to the table where my mother's set out the bread and a large bowl of soup.  I try not to slurp it down like a starving animal but I'm still eating way too fast.   My mother smiles at me and hands me another slice of bread.  I take it gratefully and spread a little goat cheese on it before biting into it.  

 

When the Games are on, Mandatory Viewing is always a recap of the day's events.   First, they play the highlights of the day so those people who missed them on the original airing can catch up.   Then, they show a quick reel of all of the surviving tributes' actions, for many of the districts this is the only way we know what is going on with our tributes until they die since the Gamemakers focus so much on the Careers.   Finally, there is the "Tribute to the Fallen" section where each tribute that dies that day is spotlighted over a specially chosen song for this year.  For days like the bloodbath, they reuse previous years' songs as necessary but each tribute gets at least a minute and a half of airtime even if they didn't survive that long in the Arena.  This is the end of Mandatory Viewing although most people stick around to watch what comes after, the exit interviews with the mentors whose tributes died.   For the first time in as long as I can remember, Haymitch Abernathy is not going to be one of the mentors interviewed.  

 

Currently, they are replaying the highlights of the day's events.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Prim getting the ball of string and I'm reminded that I didn't tell my mother that my sponsorship gift got to her.   "Prim got the gift," I say almost unnecessarily.

 

"I see that.  It's a good choice."

 

"I hope they find water soon.  Otherwise, it's not going to be a lot of use."

 

"I'm sure they will.  Prim's a smart girl and she's with that girl from Eleven."

 

"Yeah..."

 

"Shh... they're about to do the tribute recaps," my mother shushes me.  

 

As always they start with One.  Glimmer, Marvel, Clove, Cato and Axel all go by very quickly.  Only three things are new to me.  One is what Axel did to booby trap himself.  The second is of him actually digging up the mines and replanting them around the pile of supplies.   The third is the Careers deciding to hold off on going hunting for more tributes in order to give Clove time to recover.   The decision annoyed Marvel, but Glimmer calmed him down by pointing out that some tributes might have to come to them because of the lake.  

 

Next they show the girl from Five, Uranium.   She followed much the same tactic as Ceres and hid out by the Career camp.  Unlike Ceres, she didn't get caught.  She was obviously disappointed to hear that the pack wasn't going hunting which tells me that she'd planned on going in to get supplies then.  Considering that she knows where all of the hidden mines are and watched Axel show Glimmer, Marvel and Cato how to navigate them she could have gotten away with it.  

 

Tacoma is next.   After her time in the bloodbath, she spent most of the day hightailing it away from the clearing and up into the woods.  She finally called it quits by a jumble of rocks where she set up camp.  

 

The girl from Eight, Taylor, is next.  She's scored a small pack from the Cornucopia and like Tacoma also hightailed it out of the clearing.   She however seemed to stop every so often to fish out something of the pack to eat and have a good cry.   She's not as pathetic as Grata was, but she's close.

 

Jace from Nine unwittingly followed Thresh into the wheat field.  While he had a backpack when he'd entered the field, he dropped it when Thresh charged at him scaring him.   The boy tore off through the field and up the side of the cliff into the woods beyond.   When he eventually stopped running, Jace was well and truly lost.   He spent the rest of the day walking in circles.  

 

The boy with the lame foot, Clint, proved as good as his word.  He may have a limp, but that didn't slow him down or affect his agility very much.   I caught my breath when he followed after Rue for a little bit, but then he lost her when she climbed a tree and started jumping from tree to tree like an oversized squirrel.   He eventually gave up tracking her and walked off in the other direction to try to find water.  

 

After the Cornucopia, Thresh collected the dropped bag from Jace and headed out further into the wheat field.   Along one edge, he found a small cave that he put all of his supplies into.  Then, with a knife he grabbed from the Cornucopia, he cut down the stalks of wheat near the opening to his cave so that people couldn't sneak up on him.  After he finished that task, he pulled the heads off to shuck, piling the stalks onto the floor of his cave and made himself what looked to be a fairly comfortable bed.  

 

Rue and Prim are next.   The two continued their hunt for water.   Unfortunately for them, they didn't find any.  However Rue was able to find some juicy berries which helped a little. They also routinely stopped to whistle the simple four note tune.   They never heard a return call.  The two ended the day climbing two large trees and setting up their sleeping bags up there, Prim cutting off some rope to give to Rue to lash herself in.   They didn't bother with giving Prim a section since she and Rue did everything together.  

 

Finally they showed Peeta.  He'd managed to stop crying but it was clear he was still very upset about the events at the Cornucopia.   Unlike most of the tributes, he had a little water from the supplies that he'd managed to gather.  Not much but some.   He spent a lot of the day listening for the mockingjay calls.   It was only as the sun started going down that he finally heard Rue and Prim's whistle echoed by the birds.   He whistled the call, and I wince at an off note.   Apparently the birds didn't like it either, since they didn't bother to mimic it.   He sighed and walked at bit more determinedly in the direction he heard the call from.  

 

Only once it was too dark did he stop for the night.   He rolled under a bush and pulled a blanket out from the pack.   From there, he watched the anthem play in the Arena and the faces of the tributes who died that day flash up.   He winced when Coral's face flashed up but I can also see the relief on it.   I guess he thought he'd also killed Clove.  Not seeing her face in the sky was bit of a reprieve for him.  

 

The producers take that last bit as a segue into the "Tribute to the Fallen" segment and I tuned out again.   I've already seen all of the deaths from today and none of them are ones I want to relive.   My mother seems to sense this because she turns down the volume again.   We can't turn the television off, the option is disabled and tampering with that feature is considered a hanging offense.   But so long as the television is on, you don't have listen to it.  

 

My mother places the iced cookie the baker gave me earlier in the day in front of me.   I take it and look up at her.   "Why does he keep giving us these?"

 

"Matz is a good man.  A kind one and if I hadn't met your father, I'd probably be married to him," she says simply biting into the cookie with little violets on it.

 

"What happened?"

 

"Your father, obviously.   Once I met Solomon that was it, I knew he was the man for me.   I broke it off with Matz and the rest, as they used to say, is history."

 

"But why is he still so nice to us?  Why Father used to trade squirrels with him!" 

 

Smiling softly in remembrance, my mother says, "That's just the kind of man Matz is.  He doesn't hold a grudge and he really is that kind.  But he's sometimes too kind.  Too willing to forgive a fault.  It's the only reason I can think of why he's still with Muffy." 

 

Muffy is the baker's wife and Peeta's mother.  She's a mean, shrewish woman who was once considered a beauty a long time ago as the furrier's daughter.  She was considered quite a catch before she got knocked up by the baker at the eighteen year old final reaping celebration.  Now age and anger have made that beauty long since vanish.  She's cruel to two of her sons, Bing who she blames for forcing her into marriage and Peeta, whom I've heard her call 'a mistake.'  Only her middle son Farl gets any form of affection from her leaving the baker to pick up the slack.  

 

I understand why my mother thinks he should leave her.  But I can understand why he doesn't.   Divorce isn't allowed out here in the districts, but separation is more common and allowed.   I've read that in the Capitol, people get married and divorced as easily as someone might change clothes.   It's another difference between the Capitol and the Districts. 

 

They finish up the memoriam section of Mandatory Viewing, I only heard part of it but this year's tune is called "On the Wings of Glory."  I hope I never have to hear that song play for my sister. 

 

Thus the first day of the Games comes to an end and I'm exhausted.   I can imagine that Prim is even more tired than I am and I send out my thoughts to her, hoping that she'll feel them and not give up.  

 

She's got several more days she's going to have to get through.  I hope she's able to hang on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written as Part of NaNoWriMo in November of 2012.  
> Revised 7/20/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> This is a pretty transitional chapter. I needed to cover a few things, namely how the Games are shown on television. It's kind of like Olympic coverage nowadays with the most interesting parts saved for Prime Time viewing and live coverage airing at various times throughout the day. And like Olympic coverage, what is showing is often interrupted when something exciting happens at other venues.
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> None!
> 
> Up Next: Peeta and Prim reunite.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

The morning comes and I turn on the television while I start my day.   At the top of each hour there's a quick recap of what's happened, if anything, by a young reporter with bright green hair and matching ivy tattoos on her cheeks.   The person reading these is always young and always far too cheerful for my tastes.   As much as they annoy me at times, I prefer Caesar and Claudius.   But they only take over in the early afternoon and through Mandatory Viewing.  The rest of the Games are narrated by novice newscasters.  

 

Thankfully not much has happened while I've been sleeping.   Both Prim and Rue have gotten up and done their morning routines.  Thankfully the Gamemakers don't show tributes pooping and peeing, probably to preserve the delicate Capitol sensibilities which can watch someone be brained to death with a rock but can't stand to watch someone take care of a bodily function.   Still, it's something.  I don't know if I could stand to watch that.  

 

Prim climbs another tree and shouts down that she thinks she sees water.  I hope so for her sake.   The berries yesterday staved off some of the worst of the dehydration, but both she and Rue need water.   As they walk toward where they think Prim saw water, they whistle the four note theme.  Occasionally one or both of them will spot a plant that they know is edible and gather it.   Good for them.  The more food they can gather, the less they will need to rely on sponsors or their supplies to survive.

 

From where he camped a few miles away, Peeta gets an early start.  From the circles under his eyes, I suspect his sleep was plagued by nightmares.   I feel sorry for him, from what Madge told me and what I've observed he's a kind, gentle soul.  But kind, gentle souls don't last long in the Arena.   Peeta seems to understand this, but he doesn't like it.  I don't think any of us likes it.  It's just one more thing that the Capitol takes away from us.  

 

Peeta seems to have given up trying to whistle Rue and Prim's tune and is instead following the mockingjay song.   He's getting closer, according to the announcers, his longer stride and fewer stops have gotten him less than a mile from the girls.   When he hears the whistle again, he picks up his pace, trying and failing to duplicate that simple tune.  He just can't seem to get that low final note but he keeps trying anyway.  

 

The girls finally hear him, or rather hear the mockingjays stop repeating their tune an hour later.   I can see the relief on my sister's face and even Rue looks pleased.   They call his name, urging him to find them.   I want to scream at them that it could be a trap, but I know my sister, she's not wary enough to suspect that people don't have good intentions.  

 

When they catch sight of him, Prim drops all pretense of waiting and flies toward the older boy.   A smile blossoms across Peeta's face and he catches her in his arms and hoists her high over his head, swinging her around in circles.   Prim spreads her arms wide, trusting him fully to keep her from falling.   It's a breathtaking sight.  

 

He lowers her gently to the ground and gives her a large hug.  He's as relieved as she is that they've reunited.   The commentator is cooing that they must be so close because Peeta is dating me.   That's not it at all, it's just that my sister really is that loveable.  

 

Rue has been hanging back shyly and Peeta finally notices her.  He untangles an arm from Prim and motions for Rue to come join the hug.   She only hesitates for a moment before running over to him.   He pulls her to him and the three stay there for a few minutes just basking in the joy at having found each other.  

 

It's Prim who finally pulls away.  "Where have you been, Peeta?  I was afraid something happened to you."

 

"I told you I was going to get supplies," he says.

 

"But you didn't say it would take that long!" she protests, stamping her foot.   "We were worried that someone killed you!"

 

A pained expression crosses Peeta's face.   "Well, you can see I'm fine."

 

Prim inspects him.  Other than a few scratches from sleeping under a bush, he's uninjured.  "Well, if you say so."  She doesn't sound convinced but she's giving Peeta the benefit of the doubt.  

 

"I'm glad you two found each other and are okay,"  Peeta says, changing the subject to distract my sister from him.

 

Prim huffs and places her hands on her hips.  "I almost wasn't!   The girl from Ten found me and if weren't for Rue's quick thinking I wouldn't be here."

 

I can see the guilt that flashes across Peeta's face.   "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Prim," he says contritely.  Then he turns to the dark skinned girl from Eleven.  "Thank you for being there for her when I wasn't."

 

Rue blushes. "It's okay.   We're a team, right?  You'd do the same for me."  

 

"Of course I would!" he answers and I know he means it.  

 

Rue seems to know it too because she gives him another hug and says, "Then don't worry about it.  Nothing happened and we got another pack out of it."

 

Peeta nods, but I can see that he's unconvinced.   I also can guess that he's going to be blaming himself for not being there.   I know that is what I would be doing if I were in his shoes.

 

Prim interrupts Peeta's brooding.  "Do you have any water?  We haven't had any since before the Games started."

 

"Yeah, a little," Peeta says with a nod.  "I don't have much so you'll have to be careful with it.  No telling when we'll find more."

 

"Prim thinks that she saw water off that way," Rue says pointing toward the west.  

 

A ghost of a smile crosses Peeta's face.  "Good.   When you're done, one of you will need to climb a tree to see if we're still on track."

 

Rue nods.  "I'll do it now.  Then get my water."

 

While Rue's climbing, Prim asks, "What really happened back there?  No lies.  You promised."

 

"I had to kill the girl from Four, I didn't want to but she came at me with a knife and I just reacted."  He bites his lower lip and I can see from his expression that he's fighting to hold back tears. 

 

Prim must see it too because my sister gives him another hug.  "You did what you had to do to survive."

 

"I know.  But I wish I didn't have to kill her.  I wish," he says in a voice thick with unshed tears, "I didn't have to change who I was just to survive these Games.  I'm okay with dying just so long as I don't let them change me.  I've been telling myself that ever since my name was called.  Now, I don't know if I'll still be the same man that I was when I entered."

 

Prim pulls back and stares into his face.  "Just so long as you keep saying that the Games made you do this, it'll be okay.  You wouldn't have done it otherwise."

 

"I don't know, Prim.  I'm afraid of what your sister will think of me now that I'm a killer."  I'm confused.  I don't know why my opinion would matter.  

 

"I think Katniss would understand," she says solemnly.   "Especially since she knows you're doing this to keep both of us alive."

 

Peeta pulls back.  "Remember, Prim, only one of us gets to go home," he reminds her gently.

 

She looks up at him sadly.  "I wish it didn't have to be like that."

 

Peeta manages to get his emotions back under control although I can see that they're simmering just under the surface.   "Me too.  But unless they change the rules, it's how it's going to be," he says fatalistically.  "So don't get your hopes up.  I mean to make sure that you can go home to your sister and that's that."   

 

My eyes widen at his very public declaration.  First that he even told Prim about his intention to make sure she survives.    And second that he would say it where the whole country and Capitol can hear it.  It plays up the whole tragedy of the Games.   I'm even surprised that the Gamemakers aired that little conversation, but maybe they didn't think it was inflammatory enough or maybe they're only saying what everyone already knows:  twenty four tributes go in, only one comes out.

 

Prim just nods at him, like they've had this conversation before.  They likely have, since it's clear that they intended on teaming up from the start.   "Katniss sent me some string," Prim says changing the subject.

 

"Good!"  Peeta says, his voice actually full of genuine pleasure.  "You really did well at the knot tying station in training so we should be able to snare some good food.  I'm also glad Katniss was able to raise enough money to help us out.   Sending that string to you was the best thing she could do."

 

"I know.  I hope it didn't cost too much, though."  She looks concerned.  I can guess she's worried I won't have enough for when the baby arrives. 

 

"I'm sure she had lots of help," Peeta soothes.

 

"Yeah, Gale," Prim says with a sniff.

 

"He's your sister's friend, Prim," he chides her gently.

 

"I suppose.   But he's not as good as you," she says heatedly.  

 

Peeta smiles at my sister.  "Thanks for saying that.  But I'm just glad that she's got someone to rely on while we can't be there, you know?"

 

Prim wrinkles her nose at him and takes a sip of water from the bottle Peeta hands her.

 

Rue rejoins the two on the ground and Peeta hands her the water.  She takes a grateful sip before speaking.  "Prim was right.  There is water.   I can't see how much but it's about five hundred yards or so that way."   She points with one arm.  

 

"Let's grab our stuff and get going.   I'd like to get water and then see about finding a secure place to make camp."

 

The girls nod and grab their gear.  Rue takes the lead with Peeta bringing up the rear. They don't say anything while they walk, intently listening for the sound of water.   After about twenty minutes they start to hear water running over rocks and then Rue gives a little cry as she spots the glint of water through the trees.    

 

They slow down, becoming wary of walking into a trap and Peeta breaks off three branches, one for each of them, to use to poke the ground ahead of them.    They spread out but within arms' length of each other.  It's a smart move because Peeta's stick finds a patch of quicksand.  In the wild, quicksand is rarely deadly, it's just not deep enough to go over someone's head in most cases.  However, this is an Arena and the Gamemakers like to put deadly surprises around places like lakes, streams, and pools to trap and kill unwary tributes.    Peeta carefully finds the edges of the trap and marks them with a series of symbols low to the ground on the trees nearest the hole.   They continue like this for the rest of the way to the edge of the woods, finding two more quicksand pools along the way.   When they break out into the sun and take in the water source they all breathe a collective sigh of relief.   It's a spring flowing into a decent sized pond with water lilies, cattails and katniss surrounding it.  

 

It's a survivalist's dream. 

 

The girls pull out their water bottles and get to filling them up while Peeta looks around and takes in the terrain.  The spring is located in a small depression in the surrounding terrain.  Further to the west there's a  sharp cliff jutting up out of the landscape.   There are a few dark spots that might be caves along the cliff and I see Peeta eyeing them with interest.   It makes sense.  Like Thresh's wheat field, this is a defensible location with water and food nearby. 

 

Prim gives a little cry and immediately Peeta tenses up, ready to leap into battle.   But she's not hurt, she's excited.

 

"Look, Rue!" she says pointing into the pool.  "Fish!"    My heart leaps.  That pond has just gone from dream to heaven.

 

There's a knock on my door and I tear myself away from the Games to answer it.   It's Madge bearing a large paper bag.   "You're early," I greet, glancing at the clock to make sure I haven't accidentally lost track of time and find it's only eleven.  

 

"I figured you wouldn't have eaten breakfast yet," she answers, reaching into the bag and pulling out a blueberry muffin and placing it in my hands.  "Tell me I'm wrong."

 

I stare at her then make a rueful face.  The fact is, she is right.  I haven't eaten.  I got so caught up in the Games that I forgot to eat when I first got up and that was hours ago.  "Thanks," I say and take a bite.   The muffin is soft, moist and delicious and suddenly I want to shove the whole thing in my mouth.   I restrain myself and step back to invite Madge in.

 

I go into the kitchen area and pull out our old teapot to make some tea.   Mint, not the expensive stuff sold at either the apothecary or general store. 

 

Madge follows me and sets her bag on the counter.   "So guess who I saw on my way here?"

 

"I don't know.  Who?"

 

She pouts at me.  "You're supposed to guess!"

 

"You know I never play these games."

 

"Fine," she gives in with an eye roll.  "I saw Gale."

 

"You know he came over here the night of the interviews angry at me about Peeta," I tell her.

 

She nods her head.   "I guessed.   Pretty much got confirmed when he cornered me wanting to know what I knew about Peeta.   If he was a stand up guy.  That kind of thing."

 

I sigh.  "He's acting like a possessive ass."

 

"I don't know," Madge says thoughtfully.  "Maybe that's part of it.  But I wonder if part of it isn't genuine concern."

 

"Why do you say that?"  

 

"This is Twelve, Katniss.   A lot of Seam girls and women have merchant lovers, the ones that aren't brave enough or desperate enough to go to the Peacekeepers.  I think in his own overprotective way he's trying to look out for you."

 

"I don't need or want him to look out for me.  I can look out for myself!"  I can feel the annoyance in me rising.

 

"Are you going to stop looking out for Prim?" she asks pointedly.  

 

I glance guiltily at the screen where Prim is making a net out of the string I sent her while Rue is gathering up various plants to eat and Peeta stands guard.     "I don't know if I can stop.  She's my little sister."

 

"And as much as I hate to say it, he's the father of the baby you're carrying. And you're his best friend.  He's not going to stop caring about you overnight just because you've had some fights."  She pauses.  "I am assuming you two fought."

 

I laugh.  "I think that's putting it mildly.  I don't want to marry him and he won't stop pushing me."  It's just so frustrating. 

 

"I think that's because Gale's always been the responsible one.  Look at him with his brothers and sister.  They're almost like they're his own kids," she points out.

 

"Posy especially," I say in agreement.

 

"Exactly.  Now he's having one for himself.  Naturally he's going to be a little protective and that's going to spill over to you."

 

"But he should know that I don't need protecting!  We've been hunting together for years," I exclaim, exasperated. 

 

"Doesn't matter. Not to him.   I don't say I agree with it, but if you look at it from his perspective it makes sense." 

 

It does make sense and I hate that it makes sense.  But Madge is a good friend for pointing this out to me.  "How do I get him to look at things from my perspective?"

 

She raises her eyebrows and her lips twitch upward.  "If I knew the answer to that, do you think I'd still be single?  At least you're one up on me,  you've got two someones who want you."

 

It's meant to come across as light-hearted but I can hear the pain in Madge's voice.   It's true, no one's shown any interest in her.  Being the Mayor's daughter doesn't lead to an exciting social life.   "Give it time.  Who knows, maybe Gale will stop moaning about me and latch on to you," I tease.  I can't see Gale and Madge being friends let along boyfriend and girlfriend.  Not with his class prejudices and her father's position. 

 

She wrinkles her nose.  "Thanks, but I'll pass.   He's handsome and all, but he's really not my type."

 

The water is ready and I pour us both a cup of tea.  "So what is your type?"

 

"I'll tell you when I know what it is," she admits ruefully. 

 

I look down at my stomach.   "I want to keep Gale for a friend.  Even as angry as I am with him right now, I miss him."

 

"I know."  She takes a sip of her tea.

 

"I want my baby to grow up knowing its father."

 

"I know," Madge repeats, blowing on the tea to cool it.

 

I look over at my friend.  "Why does he have to make it so hard?"

 

She sets her teacup down.  "I don't know.  But from his perspective you're the one making it hard," she points out, pulling two loaves of bread out of the bag she brought and handing them to me.

 

"I know."  I take them and note that one is the same kind of bread that Peeta gave me all those years ago.  "You know this whole thing with Peeta isn't helping.   Did you know he was in love with me?"

 

Madge nodded.  "I did.  Or at least I suspected."

 

"How?"  I want to know.  Did everyone know Peeta's feelings for me before I did?

 

"Remember how I said we used to play together?"

 

"Yeah?"  I answer with a nod.

 

"He never wanted to play house with me, because I was and I quote, 'Not the girl he wanted to marry' end quote.   I finally asked him who he wanted to marry and he got all flustered and mumbled out something about the girl who could make the birds listen.  It wasn't until I heard you out singing with Prim in the Meadow a few months ago that I realized who he was talking about."

 

A horrible thought crosses my mind.   "Do you like Peeta?"

 

"You mean, like like?" she asks.  

 

I nod.

 

She shakes her head.  "No.  He's my friend and I can't picture him like that for me.   In my mind, he's always been yours even though you never knew you had him."

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask.

 

She shrugs, picking her mug back up and taking another sip.  "It wasn't my place.  Besides, I didn't have any real proof.   That would have been embarrassing if you'd confronted him and he went, 'Oh no, I don't like you.  I like Prinny Sparrow,'" Madge says naming a girl in our year whose singing voice is notoriously horrid.   "I mean imagine the mortification you would have felt.  I was sparing you, really."

 

"Thanks for that," I say drily.

 

"Anyway, it's not like you really need to worry about Gale right now," Madge says leaning against the counter.   "I mean the guy he's all worked up over has out and out said he's going to die for your sister."

 

"You saw that this morning, huh?"

 

"Right before I left, yeah," she says with a nod.  "I figured that you weren't going to eat until they stopped focusing on Prim, Peeta and that girl from Eleven."

 

"Rue." I fill in the name and give my friend a little sheepish smile.  "And yeah, I sort of forgot all about food until you showed up."

 

Madge grins at me.  "You're welcome." She pauses taking another sip of tea.  "So really, Gale doesn't have to worry much about the competition.   At least not from Peeta, because if he's the winner of the Games I doubt you'll have much to do with him and Peeta's pretty much aware of that."  

 

I nod.  They're both right, I wouldn't be able to look at Peeta without seeing Prim.  It'd take an order from President Snow himself for me to have anything to do with him, much less consider dating him. 

 

"So just wait until the Games are over and things will straighten themselves out.  Both you and Gale are under a lot of stress because of these Games."

 

"Yeah," I agree.  

 

When we sit down, I note that the action has changed over to the Career camp.   Clove is sitting up and Cato is anxiously trying to get her to eat something.

 

"Please, Clove ,you've been out all day!"

 

She pushes away the soup bowl he's holding.  "I told you I'm not hungry.  What happened?" she asks. 

 

Glimmer pipes up, "The dork from Twelve did a number on you."

 

"So why aren't I dead?"

 

"Rookie mistake," Glimmer answers with a shrug.   "Lucky for you.  He took out Coral."

 

Clove looks more annoyed than sad that her ally was killed.  "Sucks for her.  Also going to really suck for him," she says with a cruel smirk on her face.

 

"Why's that?"  Marvel asks from where he's keeping an eye on the final member of their alliance, Axel. 

 

Her eyes glint with something akin to anticipation.  "I'm going to make him wish he was killed at the Cornucopia instead of Coral."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written as part of NaNoWriMo in November 2012.  
> Revised 7/22/13  
> Beta Read by Rose Fyre.
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
>  None!
> 
> Up Next: The Gamemakers unleash a little hell.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

 

Unfortunately for her, Clove couldn't even attempt to make good on her threat that day.  When she tried getting up, she got all woozy and nearly fainted.   Cato caught her and vetoed going out hunting again that day.   The Capitol has to be getting annoyed at the lack of deaths today.  Granted, they have another alliance to hold people over, but it's still not interesting watching.  

 

After the focus of the morning, they don't bother going back to Peeta, Rue and Prim.   Instead they focus on the growing tension between the Career Pack.   Cashmere was right, Glimmer is about the only thing holding it together at this point.   Marvel is about ready to strike out on his own and Axel is still fiddling with wires and mines while glancing at the other four warily.  

 

I spend most of the afternoon talking with Madge.  It turns out she talked her mother into giving me the maternity clothes that her mother had stuffed in the back of her closet.   I'm grateful for them.  While they still are too big for me, that is something easily fixed.  My own clothes are starting to become too tight across the middle and bust.   The fact that I even have a bust now takes some getting used to.  

 

Madge goes home after Mandatory Viewing.  Most of the tributes spent the day much like Prim, Peeta and Rue, looking for water.   Uranium has staked out a little place by the Career camp and the lake and is for the most part subsisting on cattails and dandelion greens.   It's obvious her strategy is to raid from the Careers but with them refusing to go out hunting, she's stuck.   Thresh is doing well for himself.  There's a seep in the back of his cave for him to get water so he doesn't need to go anywhere.  He's trapping rodents for meat and making the seed heads of the wheat into a mush.   He's doing fine.  

 

My mother doesn't come home until late, someone fell off a ladder while repairing a leaking roof and was knocked unconscious and additionally broke their wrist.   She has a few baby clothes as payment.  Must be from one of the miner families with older kids.    I'd rather have her be paid in food, but that is rare.  Mostly we get random stuff that the merchants won't buy and they are too afraid to go to the Hob to trade.   Those who do trade at the Hob will generally pay my mother in chits, one tenth of one coin printed on a dyed wood and stamped with the Capitol seal.   Counterfeiting is an offense punishable by death, not to mention being near impossible out here in Twelve.  

 

We have dinner, more fish stew, and go to bed.   She's too tired to talk and I talked myself out with Madge earlier.

 

The next day I get breakfast before I turn on the television.   I don't want a repeat of yesterday.   A slice of toasted bread smeared with goat cheese and jam should be enough.   My mother's put a note on a bottle of Lady's milk for me to drink.   I really am not fond of milk but I drink it anyway.   Then make some mint tea to wash away the taste.  

 

I turn on the television and they're still showing the Career camp.  Apparently not much has happened overnight and this is causing some serious tension between the group.   Marvel is pacing back and forth like a caged animal and Glimmer is trying to talk sense into him. 

 

"I don't see why we can't kill that weakling now and be done with it!" the tall Career growls.

 

The blond girl tries to talk some sense into him.  "We need them for now.  At least until we take care of the girl from Seven and the boys from Eleven and Twelve.  You saw how easily Eleven took down Reef.   And Twelve took out one of us almost two.  They're strong, it's better to go after them as a group then by yourself."

 

"I could take them!" he protests.

 

"Sure you could, but without getting seriously hurt?  Be honest with yourself," she cautions. "It's better to take them out as a group.  And who knows, maybe one of them will take out some other competition in their death throes."

 

Marvel turns to glare at the makeshift tent Cato's erected.   "I am sick of waiting for her to get better.   He should kill her and be done with it.  It's not like both of them can win."

 

"I tried broaching that with him," Glimmer admits.  "He won't listen.   I think that in his mind if he does a good enough of a job, performs better than expected, the Gamemakers might just reward him by letting her live.   I think she's more aware of the reality of things but she's not ready to die yet." She pauses and gives Marvel a warning look.  "You do know she's sleeping with her knives now."

 

He shakes his head.   "No, I didn't.   Thanks for the warning."

 

She shrugs away the thanks.  "I figured you deserved it."

 

"Still, I want to get out of this camp.  I'm going crazy!"  He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration.

 

Glimmer shrugs again.  "So go," she says indifferently.  "Set some snares.   Pick some wildflowers.  Whatever.  Just don't do something stupid like try to hunt down another tribute on your own."

 

"Fine," he grumbles.

 

They both walk back to camp.   "I'm going to go set snares, see if I can get us some fresh meat.  Any of you want to come?"  Marvel announces when he gets there.  

 

"Oh I would love to," Clove says from where she is resting with her head in Cato's lap.   "But, I'm afraid Cato and I have other plans."  She gives him an insincere smile.  

 

"Why doesn't he speak for himself?"  Marvel grits out, rising to her bait.

 

Cato's eyes narrow.  "I'm staying here with Clove.   I don't trust you, any of you," he adds looking at Glimmer, Axel and Marvel pointedly, "not to stick a knife in Clove the moment I leave camp."

 

For his part, Axel just shrugs.  "I'm not really all that interested in hunting so I'll stay here.  No offense Marvel, but I think you'd kill me just because you're getting antsy."

 

"None taken, because I would," Marvel replies with a sneer.  "What about you?" he turns to Glimmer.  

 

She looks torn.  I can tell that she's itching for action but something is stopping her.  Probably Marvel's attitude, she doesn't trust him either.   "I think I'm going to stay here and work with Cato to try to get Clove back into fighting form."

 

"Suit yourself!"  He grabs a net and a coil of rope and stomps off into the woods.  

 

"You didn't have to stay, Glimmer," Clove says softly, the earlier sarcasm in her voice gone.  

 

"I don't trust him either," Glimmer admits.   "He's always been a loose cannon.  Even in training all he wanted to do was fight, never wanted to learn defense only offense.  And he doesn't have any patience."

 

"I noticed," Clove says drily.   "And I thought Cato was bad."

 

"Hey!" he protests.

 

She reaches up and strokes one of his cheeks.  "It's okay.  I like that you're impatient most of the time."

 

He plants a kiss on her nose.  "Thanks."

 

"Okay, enough mushiness," Glimmer says. "Time to work on standing up without puking."

 

Clove grimaces but nods. 

 

The cameras cut to Peeta, Prim and Rue.  They've set up a nice camp by the pond and have a good amount of supplies.  I still haven't seen what all Peeta managed to get from the Cornucopia but he keeps it bundled up and on his back pretty much at all times.   Only when he's sleeping, does he take it off and even then it's within arm's reach.  It's another thing that he does that's smart.   You don't want to lose your supplies if something or someone comes along that makes you need to run.   The girls mimic him, even going so far as to sleep with their packs on.   Peeta's pack is too big to do that with otherwise I think he'd do that too. 

 

Peeta and Rue are both napping while Prim sets out a net to catch a fish or two.  It's quiet.  This fact goes unnoticed by her for a few crucial seconds.   In the woods it should never be quiet.  Only when there is danger does the wood still.   She stands up and nudges Rue and Peeta with her foot.  

 

The two come awake in time to see a herd of deer stampede by.  

 

"What the?" Peeta asks, sitting up groggily.  

 

"I don't know," Prim answers.  "The forest went silent then the deer ran through."

 

Rue stands up and looks up toward the cliff.  "And I think I know why."  She points to where the dark spots in the cliff were the day before.  These spots are now giant jets of flame.

 

"Crap!" Peeta swears, grabbing up a bedroll with one hand and stuffing it into his pack before slinging it over one shoulder.   "Come on!  We gotta move!"

 

Both Prim and Rue just stand there, transfixed on the spurts of flame coming down the mountain.  

 

With a muffled oath, Peeta picks up first Prim then Rue and sets off running away from the fire.   He runs awkwardly with the bag of supplies bouncing against his hip with a girl over each shoulder.   He doesn't stop running though.

 

The flames are right on their trail.  A falling tree barely misses them, crashing to the ground and throwing up sparks as it hits the ground.  Peeta pushes himself harder for a little extra speed.  

 

"Put me down, Peeta!" Rue shouts over the crackling of the fire.  "I can run now."

 

"Same!" Prim shouts from his other shoulder.  

 

Peeta stops and gently lowers them to the ground.   With a cry of thanks, both girls start running.   The blond boy straightens and a jet of fire comes up almost directly behind him, setting his jacket ablaze.

 

Peeta screams.   I can only imagine the pain he is feeling at this moment.   Fortunately, he doesn't lose his head but instead grits his teeth and drops to the forest floor, using the weight of his body against the ground to smother the flames.   It has to be excruciating but it's the only way to stop the fire from spreading. 

 

When he stands up, the camera zooms in on his back and I can see the blackened and blistered flesh along with the strips of fabric that have fused themselves to his skin.   It looks beyond painful.   Then Peeta does something that has my jaw dropping.   He picks up the pack where he dropped it and slings it over his shoulders directly onto the burn.  

 

With great effort, he starts running again.   I can see from the expression on his face that the only thing keeping him going is sheer willpower.   Rue and Prim are far ahead of him when a terrified stag bursting from the undergrowth forces them to veer to the left.

 

They follow the stag, guessing that the animal must know where safety is.   After about ten minutes, they hit another clearing and beyond it is a large stream.   The two girls stop to catch their breath and turn to see where the fire and Peeta are.     Peeta is struggling manfully with the pack but I can see that the adrenaline that has been sustaining him is running out.  

 

Rue and Prim run back to him.  They each slip an arm around him prompting Peeta to scream in pain.   Prim pulls back and sees the results of the burst blisters on the sleeve of her jacket.  

 

"He's been badly burned," she cries to Rue.  "We've got to get him to the stream!"

 

Rue nods and they support Peeta for the last hundred yards.   The flames are still coming so Prim and Rue pull Peeta into the stream.

 

The water is cold and fast moving and I can see that both girls are struggling to keep their footing.   I pray that the bottom doesn't give out.  I know that Prim can swim a little but I have no idea about Rue or Peeta.  It's touch and go as they cross to the other side but their luck holds, the water comes up to their necks but they don't lose the bottom entirely.  

 

They pull Peeta up onto the bank and roll him onto his stomach.   Prim carefully removes the large backpack from Peeta's back while Rue starts looking around for any kind of danger.   The fire might have herded other tributes their way, it's a common Gamemaker tactic when action is slow.  So far the coast is clear, but the question is for how long?

 

Once the pack is removed, Prim assesses the damage.  I can tell it isn't good.   The blisters I saw earlier have burst and have rubbed raw and red.   There are rivulets of blood running down his back and into the waistband of his pants.   About a third of his back, from the bottom of his shoulder blades to the small of his back, is burned.  

 

Prim pulls out her knife and the commentators gasp that she's going to kill him because he's injured so badly that he can't protect her.   I snort.  These Capitol people don't know my sister at all.   She's not going to kill Peeta, she's going to try to save him.  

 

She starts to cut away the fabric around the edges of the burn.  I can see she's trying very hard not to cut off all of his clothing, probably not because she would be embarrassed at seeing him half dressed like I would, but because burn victims are susceptible to changes in temperature.   I remember that my sister has experience treating burns since she often helps my mother with the cases that are brought in.  I remember one miner whose leg was so charred and burned from an explosion in the mines that I could see the bones in his leg.   Prim helped with that case and even though the man later died, she learned a lot about severe burns at that time.  

 

She finishes cutting away the fabric around the wound and starts to remove the burned in pieces and the few darkly charred patches of skin.   Third degree burns won't heal.  So the only way to get the patient to recover is to remove the dead skin.   Peeta screams as the first patch of skin is removed then falls unconscious.   It's better for him that way, I think sympathetically.   Burns hurt worse than any other injury, I've been told.   I don't really want to find out for myself firsthand.  

 

While she's cutting, she calls to Rue, "Can you go through Peeta's pack and see if he picked up a first aid kit?   I don't think mine's going to be enough."

 

That answers a question I'd had, apparently Peeta hasn't sorted through the supplies he got at the Cornucopia.   Or if he did, he didn't do it where Prim and Rue could see.   That could be a mistake.  

 

The little girl from Eleven roots through the pack carefully, putting the supplies into piles based on what the items are.   The bedroll Peeta grabbed is shoved under the unconscious boy's head to keep him from breathing in water or dirt.  

 

Then there's a few water bottles of varying sizes, none larger than a half gallon.   These she places next to Prim.   My sister looks at her gratefully and I think I can guess why.   This water, unlike that from the stream, is already purified so she shouldn't be risking infection by washing his wounds with it like she would from the unpurified water from the stream.  

 

Rue starts pulling out food next.  There's several packs of dried beef and fruit.   A few packs of hard crackers.  Three grain and nut bars.  A bag of walnuts and a bag of almonds.   Several thin protein bars.   Two dried sausages.  A hunk of cheese.  Three cans of soup with pull tab lids.  A box of tea.  And a largish bag of rice.   Both the rice and the tea have me shaking my head.    Rice is about useless without water or something to cook it in.   I suppose they can reuse the cans from the soup but that's not the best option.   The tea, if it is just straight tea, has almost no nutritional value.  Herbal tea is better but not by much. 

 

After the food, Rue pulls out a blanket, some rope and a small cooking pot.   At the very bottom of the pack is a small metal box and a small pouch.   Inside the pouch is another sewing kit like Prim managed to find but with more thread.  

 

The box though is the real gem.   Rue opens it and it's another medical kit.  But completer than the one Prim grabbed.   It's got gauze, bandages, more packets of ointment, a bottle of sleep syrup, and best of all a little bottle of morphling with a syringe.   Rue claps her hands in delight and shows Prim.  

 

"Good.  Tell me what the packets are for?  I've got only one burn salve and it won't cover even a fraction of his injuries."

 

Rue flips through them.   "They're all antibiotic cremes."

 

Prim wrinkles her nose.   "I was afraid of that.   He'll need that too, but burn creme is better.  Get my pack and bring me the iodine too," Prim orders.  She's clearly taking charge and Rue scrambles to follow her orders.  

 

Prim washes Peeta's back with the purified water then carefully dries it with a cut off piece of blanket.   The broken blisters are weeping clear fluid rather than blood, which is good, but Prim's frowning at them.  "I'm worried about infection," she says.  

 

"Is there anything you can do about it?" Rue asks.   

 

"Other than use the ointment?  Not really."

 

"Then do what you can and we'll go from there," Rue counsels pragmatically.

 

Prim makes a face.  "I suppose."

 

Rue stands up and looks around.  "You need me?" 

 

"This making you queasy?"  Prim asks.  "Katniss can't stand the sight of human blood.  She's so strong when it comes to everything else, but when someone's hurt she can't handle it.  She always goes someplace else when my mom has a really injured patient."

 

Shaking her head, Rue says.  "Nah, I've seen worse when the Peacekeepers whip someone for snitching food.   I was just thinking about taking a look around.   See if I can find any shelter.   We're real exposed out here."

 

Prim looks around and nods.  "Yeah, we are.  I don't know when he'll wake up, though."

 

Ever the pragmatist, Rue tells my sister, "We'll deal with that when we come to it.  You work on healing him and I'll see if I can find us a place to hide."

 

Prim nods and goes back to her work.  She judiciously dabs what little burn creme she has on the worst of Peeta's wounds.   It doesn't go far.  Then, she carefully smears the antibacterial cremes on the rest of his wounds and then lightly covers it with some gauze.  When she's done she takes stock of what medical supplies she has left and sighs.  

 

"There's not even enough for another coat," she says sadly.   She picks up her trash and puts it back in the box.  Possibly to try to salvage more from it later or to just keep people from finding her.  Either way, it is smart.

 

Rue returns a little while later. "I found a cave," she says. "It's small, but it's close."

 

Prim perks up.  "Really?  That's great news.  Do you think we can get Peeta there?"

 

"I don't know," Rue says with a frown.  "He's pretty heavy."

 

"We gotta try," Prim insists.  "How far away is it?"

 

"About a thousand feet that way," she points to a small hump of rocks and fallen trees.  "It's pretty rough going."

 

Prim looks around, a thoughtful expression on her face.   She walks around the area that Rue piled Peeta's supplies, stopping every so often at the piles to rifle through it.   "Rue?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"You think you can carry all of the supplies over to the cave and then bring back the packs?"

 

The dark skinned girl considers it.  "I think so.  It'll take me a few trips.  I'm not as strong as Peeta."

 

"I don't think anyone's as strong as Peeta," Prim says with a little laugh.

  
"Thresh is."

 

"True," she concedes.  "Leave my bedroll here along with the rope.   I'm going to try to rig something up."

 

Rue starts hauling the supplies over to the cave while Prim lays out her bedroll and unzips it.   She then pulls out a knife and makes several thin cuts along one side about four inches down from the top.   She threads the rope through the holes with the dangling ends on the far side.   She gets the second coil of rope and carefully loops it through the holes so that the fabric will be less likely to tear.  Then she takes the two dangling ends which are nearer to the center of the bedroll and lays them out parallel to the first.   By the time she's done, Rue is back with the two smaller backpacks.  She ties the rope to the straps of the backpack and pulls it on backwards with the pouch on her front instead of her back.  

 

"It's like a harness," Prim explains.  "We put Peeta on the bed roll and cushion his head and then the two of us pull him to the cave.   This way we can see where we're going and we don't have to roll him onto his back."

 

"How are we getting him onto the roll?"  Rue asks.

 

"Carefully."

 

The two girls struggle to move Peeta's unconscious body.  At one point, they have to strip off his ruined jacket and the packet of Clove's throwing knives falls out.

 

"Probably good we found these now," Prim says.  "I don't want all of my hard work to go to waste."

 

Rue nods in agreement.

 

They manage to get Peeta onto the roll then start pulling him inch by inch toward the cave.   It's slow going, Peeta weighs almost as much as the two of them put together and neither of them is used to carrying a lot of weight.   But they manage.   Every few feet or so, Prim stops them and checks to make sure that Peeta is okay.  

 

The announcers cut in that there's more action elsewhere in the Arena and I want to scream.   I understand that now that Peeta, Prim and Rue are out of immediate danger they aren't as interesting but it's still frustrating.  

 

The terrain changes and it takes me a moment to recognize that it's near the area where Prim, Peeta and Rue's camp was.   Marvel wanders onto the screen, I can tell he's slightly out of breath from running.  He must have taken off in this direction as soon as he saw the smoke.  

 

He must know, just like I do, that the sheer amount of flame can only mean one thing.  The Gamemakers are trying to make the Games more interesting by harassing the tributes.  He listens carefully and then smiles.   He hears something.  He deliberately turns around and walks in the opposite direction from where Prim, Peeta and Rue ran to.  

 

I frown.   What could he have heard?

 

I have my answer soon enough as the camera cuts to the trio's old camp.  The camp itself is unscathed although there are still burning trees on the outskirts.   The foxfaced girl from Five, Uranium, is there and gathering up the items that my group had to leave behind.   She's got the bedroll Rue was sleeping in and the pile of cattail, water lily, and katniss roots that Prim had gathered.   She's got a smug little smile on her face as she pilfers what my sister and her friends spent a long time working to get.  

 

She sees the net that Prim'd placed that morning in the water and her smile grows wider.   She goes up and starts to pull it in.   She slips on the slick grass by the edge of the pool and falls on her bottom.

 

Right as a spear flies over her shoulder and impales itself in the ground behind her.  

 

She starts and her eyes fly in the direction where the spear came from.    Marvel's there and he's angry that he missed.  

 

Uranium stands up and carefully backs up to the spear and pulls it out of the ground, holding it in front of her.   "You lost this," she says quietly.

 

"Why don't you be nice and give it back to me and I'll give you a treat," Marvel replies with a sneer.

 

Tilting her head to one side, she asks, "And what will that be?" 

 

The boy from One pulls out a hunting knife and holds it low in front of him.   "A nice painless death."

 

"Tempting," Uranium answers, her tone mocking.  "But I think I'll pass."

 

"Suit yourself.   Now I get to play with you."

 

Uranium turns and runs and I can hear the words she shouts float back to Marvel.  "You've got to catch me first!"

 

Marvel curses loudly and takes off after her.   The girl from Five is fast, darting in and out of the still smoldering and burning shrubs and trees with ease.   Marvel isn't as graceful.   He brushes up against some of the flora and has to spend precious time putting himself out.   Still, he doesn't give up.  

 

I'm a little confused when I see Uranium stop and double back a few yards.  She likely saw something up ahead that she didn't like.  She skirts the area in front of her then stops and turns around.  

 

"Tired of the cat and mouse game, mouse?" Marvel asks when he catches up to her.

 

"Something like that," she replies.  

 

He smiles.  It isn't a friendly smile.   "Good, I was getting tired of chasing you.   I'd much rather be doing something else to you."

 

"I don't think you could get it up.   Your weapon looks a little wimpy."  I can tell from her tone that she isn't talking about Marvel's knife.

 

Marvel takes it about as well as I would expect, which is to say badly.  "I'll show you wimpy!"

 

"Well, why don't you stop talking and do something?  Or are you all talk?"  Uranium taunts.  

 

Marvel charges.  

 

Uranium just stands there, a little smile on her face.   A smile that widens into a full on grin when Marvel crashes face first into a pool of quicksand.  

 

The boy from One comes up spluttering.   "What the?"

 

"You Careers," Uranium scoffs.  "You never pay attention to your surroundings.  Always so focused on your prey.   Well, now this prey is going to have the last laugh."   She pulls back her arm and hurls the spear.   Not at Marvel, like I thought.   But at the burning canopy of branches above Marvel's head. 

 

Fire rains down on the mired boy.  He cries out in pain as fiery branches scorch his face.   He tries to protect his head from the debris but is only partially successful.  His hair singes and burns and he thrashes about in the quicksand to try to free himself.  

 

Uranium smirks at his pain then runs back to Prim's abandoned camp.   I have to give the girl her due, it was an interesting tactic.  But not necessarily a deadly one.   She could have speared Marvel, but the more I think about it that is what he was expecting her to do.   He could have caught the weapon and pulled her into the quicksand with him and she'd have lost her advantage and likely her life.   This way, while less certain, allowed her to get away relatively unscathed and reclaim the supplies she had scavenged.  

 

A cannon goes off and her smile widens, assuming it is for Marvel.

 

She's wrong.   Marvel is hurt but still very much alive.

 

He manages to get his hair put out by slathering it with the wet muck.   He gingerly gets out of the quicksand and I can see that he's pretty hurt.   One eye is swollen shut and his whole left side is dotted with burns.   I can see his anger coming through the pain.   He wants to go after Uranium but he doesn't know where she went or if he could fight her in his condition.   So slowly, painfully, he sets back toward the clearing and the Career camp.  

 

The announcers interrupt to say that they're going to show a recap of something else that was going on at the same time as Uranium and Marvel's confrontation.   In another part of the forest, Jace, the boy from Nine walks around.   I can see he's nearing desperate.   He's clearly dehydrated and I can see tear tracks on his cheeks.   He's walking aimlessly, ignoring clearly edible plants and berries.  

 

My heart goes out to him. 

 

He reaches the edge of the stream and lets out a glad cry.  He runs toward it gleefully.  When he reaches the edge, he drops to his knees and slurps up several mouthfuls.   His immediate thirst slaked, he sits up and surveys his surroundings as if he's now finally aware of them.   He spots the flash of a trout in the stream and he gets to his feet.   Carefully he wades out into the water, one hand dangling in the stream.  

 

Jace is almost at the fish when he places his foot wrong.   He slips, losing his balance, the fish and his life.   He tumbles into the stream and strikes his head against a partially submerged rock.   He then rolls face first into the stream and the current carries him away. 

  
A few moments later a cannon sounds.   The same cannon Uranium mistook for Marvel's death knell.

 

Jace is dead.

 

Not by the hands of any tribute but by the brutality of the Games themselves.   It strikes me as ironic that with all of the fire set off by the Gamekeepers, so far the only death today is an accidental drowning.  

 

I glance over at the clock.  It's not even noon.   If this is how the morning is going to be, I'm worried about how the rest of the day is going to go.  I'm worried if my sister is going to make it through the rest of the day, let alone the rest of the Games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written as part of NaNoWriMo in November of 2012.
> 
> Revised 7/25/13
> 
> Beta Read by RoseFyre.
> 
> Welcome back to the action. Like the Capitol audience, I figure that my readers can only take so many transitional chapters before they get bored and move on. Besides, I do want to finish this eventually.
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> 11\. Jace. District Nine. Killed by the Games. Drowned while trying to catch a fish.
> 
> Up Next: The alliance grows and another tribute falls.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

 

I shouldn't have worried.   The rest of the day goes by fairly uneventfully.

 

Prim and Rue manage to get Peeta to the cave and spend the rest of the daylight hours gathering what edible plants they can find.  

 

The most interesting thing that happens is when Marvel gets back to the Career camp.  

 

Glimmer, who is the lookout, spots him first.   She notes his careful stride and burned and bedraggled appearance.  "What happened?"

 

"That bint from Five," he growls. 

 

Clove walks up unaided with Cato following her.  "So a piece of meat got the drop on you?  Did she sneak up on you while you were taking a piss?"

 

"Back off," Marvel snarls.  "I've about had it with mouthy women."

 

"I'm so scared," she says sarcastically.

 

He moves to attack the smaller girl and Glimmer quickly restrains him, accidentally squeezing one of his burns.   His growl of anger turns into a cry of pain.  

 

Glimmer releases him.  "What happened?" she repeats.

 

Marvel takes several deep breaths before answering.  "Gamemakers set off a fire trap.  I went to investigate and found the female from Five at a camp.   She managed to trap me in some quicksand then used my own spear to rain fire down on me."

 

"And that cannon?" Cato asks.  

 

"Damned if I know.  It could have been her.  It could have been one of the other pieces of meat.  All I know is that it wasn't me."

 

Cato nods.  

 

Clove narrows her eyes.  "Let me get this straight.   You went off, alone, which we told you not to do, to investigate a Gamemaker fire.  Then, when you got there you got taken down by a weakling tribute from Five and barely escaped with your life.   Is that right?  Or am I missing something?"

 

Marvel glares at her with his good eye.

 

"Pathetic," she sneers, crossing her arms over her chest.  "At least I was taken down by someone with the same score as me.   You were almost killed by a piece of meat."

 

"Clove," Glimmer cautions.  "You aren't helping."

 

"He's not either!"  She gestures at Marvel angrily.  "He's running off half-cocked without back up into who knows what.  What would have happened if you'd run into Eleven or Twelve?  Or even that girl from Seven?   You'd be dead and we'd be down a man."

 

"At least I would have gone down fighting!" he shoots back.

 

"But you'd still be dead and a loser," the girl from two counters.

 

"I look forward to when I can kill you," he spits out.  

 

Clove smirks.  "Not if I don't kill you first.  Now go take care of your boo boos.   Tomorrow we're going hunting."

 

Glimmer leads Marvel to a crate to use as a chair and then threads her way over to the scavenged pile of supplies.   She pulls out a first aid kit and orders Marvel to strip.  

 

When the Career is down to nothing but his underwear, she tosses his clothes to Axel and tells him to go wash them out in the lake.   Axel makes a face of distaste but complies.   As he turns away from the group, I can see the hatred in his eyes and I wonder why he's still with them.   It's obvious that this year's Career pack is much more dysfunctional than previous years' packs, but I'm guessing he has a plan and that plan requires him to work with the Careers no matter how messed up they are.  

 

Glimmer assesses Marvel's injuries.  The flesh around his left eye has swollen so much that the eyeball isn't visible.   She pulls out a chemical cold pack and shakes it up to activate it and has Marvel hold it to his face to try to get the swelling down.   Most of the rest of the burns aren't too serious, the worst are on his shoulders, left arm, and head.   Unlike Prim, who cleaned the wounds before putting creme on them, Glimmer doesn't bother with that procedure.  She just slathers creme indiscriminately on the various burns.   I don't see any third degree burns on him, but the second degree ones are going to be painful and crippling.

 

When she gets to his face, she's a little more careful.   He pulls the cold pack away from his face and Glimmer flinches.   The eye is ruined.   Gone.   All that is left is a gaping dark hole.

 

"Oh, Marvel..." she breathes softly.

 

He gives her a sharp look, taking in her stricken features with his good eye.   "How bad is it?"

 

"Bad," she says.  "Real bad."

 

"Can you fix it?" It's clear that he's holding on to some kind of hope.

 

She shakes her head.  "I don't think the Capitol can fix this."

 

His features crumple.   He knows that this early in the Games to have this bad of an injury is a death sentence.   "Just fix me up the best you can," he says after several moments.   He's trying to be strong, to not cry, but I can tell he's close.

 

Glimmer seems to as well, because she gives him a quick hug.  "I'll win for you," she promises. 

 

He nods.  It's the best he's going to get now.  

 

When I go to bed at the end of day three of the Games, my dreams are filled with fire consuming everything it touches.   I wake up in the middle of the night and resist the urge to turn on the television.   I need sleep, not more nightmares.    Instead, I make myself some chamomile tea and sit in the dark with my thoughts.  

 

I'm worried about Prim and it bothers me that there is nothing I can do but sit here in Twelve and watch her.  I'm glad she has Peeta and Rue to help her but I wonder how long that's going to last once more tributes die.  All alliances tear themselves apart in the end.   Then there's the part I've been avoiding, what am I going to do after the Games are over?   This baby, which is due in less than five months, is going to keep me from doing my normal hunting and gathering that I do most years.   That means that for the first time since my father died, my family is going to be facing starvation.    I know Gale will help, but he's going to be starting work in the mines as soon as the Games are over.  Plus any help he gives will feel like an obligation.   And thinking about obligations brings be back to Peeta.  I owe him.   I owe him a lot and I don't like being in anyone's debt.  But I have no idea how I'd go about repaying it.  

 

I sip my tea and worry.   I just want these Games to be over.  

 

oOo

 

There's a knock at the door the next morning that wakes me up.   I get out of bed and pad to the door in my nightgown, wishing that I had a robe to put on.   I open the door to find Madge and Gale both standing there.

 

"What are you two doing here?" I ask bluntly.

 

Madge clucks her tongue at me.  "Tsk.  So rude!   Aren't you even going to say hello?"

 

"Fine.  Hello.  Now what are you two doing here?"

 

Gale speaks up.  "Madge thought it'd be a good idea for you to get out of the house."

 

I shoot a glare at the Mayor's daughter and she sticks her tongue out at me.  "Oh she did, huh?   So why are you here?"  I know it's rude, but I'm not feeling all that polite.

 

"Madge talked to me yesterday.  Tried to make me see your point of view."

 

"And?"

 

"I don't agree with it.  But I guess, you're right.  You shouldn't feel pressured into doing something that is going to affect the rest of your life."

 

I nod.  "So no more insisting we get married?"

 

"I still think it's the best solution.  But I'll stop pushing."

 

"And the whole being jealous and overprotective?"  I ask.  

 

Gale makes a face.  "I can't promise anything.   You're my family, Catnip, even before I got you pregnant.   I tend to be protective of those people I consider mine."

 

I nod, accepting his compromise.  It's not everything I wanted and things are definitely still going to be awkward between us, but it's a start.   "So what did you have planned for today?" I ask.  

 

Madge walks into the house and as she passes me she hands me a sandwich of some kind of nut spread and strawberry jam.   "Well, after you eat, I thought we'd go out into the woods and go berry picking."

 

"Um, okay."

 

"I didn't think you'd be up for full on hunting, not with me in any case," Madge adds.  "I've never been under the fence before.  It's kind of an adventure."

 

I raise an eyebrow at my friend.   It's not so much an adventure as dangerous and a necessary evil in order to survive.   I can grow some food in our small garden and Lady gives us milk.  But without the meat and other foods I get from the other side of the fence, we'd starve.  

 

I glance up at Gale and he shrugs.  "It's her idea.  I'm just coming along to be the pack mule."

 

He didn't give me what I know to be the real reason, he wants to protect me, but I let him keep that fiction.   He's trying.  

 

"You're a meddler, you know," I tell Madge.  

 

"Only with things I can change."

 

I eat my breakfast and get dressed as best I can.   I don't want to wear Madge's mother's clothes outside of the fence, I'd just ruin them, and my own clothing is no longer fitting the way it used to, but I make do. 

 

"Another tribute died," Gale tells me as we walk though the Meadow.

 

"Who?"  I ask, my heart sinking.

 

"The girl from Eight.  Taylor," Madge answers.

 

I don't really remember her but I feel compelled to ask, "How?"

 

Gale is the one who gives me the explanation.   "The Career pack found her campsite and killed her.   She didn't bank her fire and the glow from the embers led them to her."

 

"Which one did it?  Marvel?  Cato?"

 

"Marvel got forced to stay at the camp because of his injury.   The rest of them went out and hunted her down.    Glimmer wounded her with her arrows but Clove actually got the kill," he answers.

 

I sigh.  What can I say?   One less tribute between Prim and the end, still she was a scared kid in the Arena who died because of something that happened long before she was born.  

 

We get to the fence and we show Madge how to listen for the electric current that runs through it.   The buzzing isn't there so we clamber under and head out into the woods.   Madge is not used to walking silently so it sounds like we are crashing through the undergrowth.   Gale tries to show her how to watch where she places her feet so she doesn't snap twigs but it doesn't make a whole lot of difference.   She doesn't have the years of experience that he and I do.    

 

After escorting us to the clearing where the main strawberry patch is Gale slips off to set a few snares.   We should be fine on our own.   I've got my bow and despite my expanding waistline, I am still a crack shot.   I show Madge how to pick the berries and what other plants are edible that she should gather as she goes.  

 

She asks a lot of questions and I'm reminded of Prim when she was younger and wanted to know everything about all of the plants.   I only wanted to know what was edible.  Prim wanted to know them all.  

 

By the time Gale gets back, we have a good pile of strawberries.   It's getting on enough in the season that the mulberries are becoming ripe so Gale and I head down to where the trees grow.   You can always tell when the mulberries are in season because the area is filled with the calls of birds.  Gale slows us down and ventures out ahead.  He knows, like I do, that where there are that many birds present that there are likely to be predators.  

 

I hear the familiar twang of a bowstring and a high pitched gobble.   Then Gale calls out, "It's clear."

 

Madge and I make our way through the brush and meet up with Gale.   "Any predators?" I ask.

 

He shakes his head.  "Nope, but I got a good sized turkey who was eating the fallen fruit."

 

Nodding, I walk over to the mulberry trees and show Madge how to tell a ripe berry from an unripe one.   The ripe berries are good to eat but if they are unripe they can cause hallucinations and stomach cramps.    Gale helps us gather them and we have a large haul of them.   About an hour later, I complain that I'm starting to get hungry and we decide to head back to the village.  

 

"That was fun!"  Madge says snitching a strawberry from her pack.   "I want to do that again!"

 

"Yeah, it was, but you've got to promise not to go out on your own," I tell her in a firm voice.  "It's dangerous."

 

She frowns at me. "I didn't see anything dangerous."

 

"That's because you don't know what to look for," Gale interjects. "There's wild dogs, wolves, mutts, tracker jackers, and snakes.  And that's just a few of the things you might run into out there.   Wild pigs are just as deadly and they startle easy, even deer can kill."

 

Madge blanches.  "I'll remember that."

 

"Look, it's because you're new," Gale says trying to soothe her.  "Catnip and I had our dads to show us the ropes.   It takes time to learn the forest.  And even Katniss and I don't go alone if we can avoid it.   It's safer that way."

 

It's true, hunting as a team is safer.   It's part of the reason why I didn't like losing Gale as a friend.   Boyfriends are easy to get, good hunting partners are harder to find. 

 

We get to my house and Gale offers to give me the turkey, I initially refuse but he reminds me that he still has his snares out there and I haven't been hunting in four days.   I accept reluctantly and I sit down to pluck the bird.  

 

Madge pales as I'm cleaning it and offers to run into town to pick up some apples and bread.   I agree, knowing that telling her that I don't need the charity is going to fall on deaf ears.   Since I am pretty sure Madge is going to be joining me for lunch, I might as well let her contribute to the meal.  Gale offers to finish cleaning the bird while I go milk Lady and get water going to start making jam from the berries we gathered.   I note that I'm going to need more sugar and salt soon if I'm going to keep preserving like I need to.  

 

While I am getting lunch ready, I turn on the Games.  It was nice to do something else, but now that I'm home I feel I should be watching and urging Prim on.  

 

The screen resolves itself on the Career camp.   No surprise there.   They aren't doing much.  They are clearly segregated into three groups:  Marvel and Glimmer, Cato and Clove, and Axel by himself.   In past years, the Career pack has been really close, joking and playing with each other.  But this year, it's really strained.  

 

Clove gets up and suggests that they go hunting for more tributes and the rest agree with her.   Marvel says he's going to go with them and I can see that Clove wants to argue with him but decides against it.   He's wearing a bandage over his ruined eye and what burns aren't covered look red and angry.   Looking at them, I wonder how Peeta is doing.

 

The five gather up their weapons and set off.  However, as they leave the clearing, I see the boy from Three fiddle with a bunch of wires.   Probably arming the mines or something.   The cameras follow them for a little while then cut back to the clearing.

 

Uranium darts out from the underbrush near the lake and does a weird hopping dance up to the supply pile.  There she grabs a little food, a knife, and some burn creme.  Not so much that it'd be missed.   She secures her prizes and then skips back through the minefield and into the trees.   I shake my head at her cleverness, she's dangerous in a way that isn't overtly obvious.  

 

The action changes to the streamside cave and Prim and Rue.   I can see that Peeta is laying on his stomach, asleep.   Prim is kneeling next to him checking on his wounds.   Rue is at the entrance of the cave looking out through a latticework of branches.

 

"He's been out a while," Rue comments.  

 

Prim nods.  "I've been keeping him under as much as I can.   The burn creme I had helped a lot, but there wasn't enough of it."

 

"So ask for more of it. You and Peeta have to have sponsors, right?"

 

Prim looks thoughtful.   "I don't know.   I hope so.   But I'm sure medicine like that is really expensive.  Haymitch and Effie might not have enough."

 

Rue sighs and looks outside again.   She seems to be rehearsing some kind of speech and my heart sinks.   Now that Peeta's down, a lot of the reason for the alliance to stick together is moot.   Rue must want to get away from the sitting duck that Peeta is right now.   She's also got to know that Prim won't leave the injured boy.   My stomach churns and it's more than just hunger pangs, it's real worry.  

 

"Prim?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

Here it comes.  "I think I need to go look for Thresh."

 

"What?"  Prim asks, echoing my own confusion and I'm sure pretty much everyone else's as well. 

 

Rue looks over at Prim seriously.   "I'm not saying that we need help."

 

"But we need help," Prim finishes.

 

"Yeah.  Thresh is the best I can think of now that Peeta's down.   He was nice to me on the train ride here and in the chariot and after training he would sit and talk with me about his life in Eleven and his little sister and grandmother."

 

"So why didn't you hang out during training?" Prim wants to know.

 

Rue looks away with a sad expression on her face.  "It was our mentors' idea.   I think they didn't want to weigh his chances down with a long shot like me."

 

Prim nods.   "I understand, Haymitch doesn't like me very much either."

 

"Yeah, well, what any of our mentors like is beyond the point.  They aren't here, we are.  What's the worse they could do?   Withhold gifts, it ain't like we're getting much anyway."

 

"Just because Thresh was nice to you in the Training Center doesn't mean he won't kill you now," Prim points out.  

 

"I know.  But, I got to try.  The Careers outnumber us and neither of us is good at fighting."

 

Prim stands up and walks over to the opening of the cave where Rue's standing.  "Do you even know where to start looking?   There's Careers out there, not to mention the other tributes."

 

"I think I saw him go over the cliff by the Cornucopia.  I'll start there."

 

Prim frowns, she knows, like I do, that most of the time the Careers set up camp near the Cornucopia so Rue is essentially proposing to walk into their camp to start her search. 

 

Gale walks in with the plucked turkey.  He sees that the television is on and it's showcasing Prim and closes his mouth around anything he was going to say.   He sets the bird on the counter and sits down at the table with me to watch. 

 

Rue continues talking through Gale's entrance.   "I'll take the night vision glasses, stick to the trees as much as I can, and travel light.  I'll be okay.   They'll have to catch me in order to kill me."

 

"You don't have to go," Prim insists.  "We can make it on our own."

 

"We might," Rue agrees.  "But will Peeta?"

 

Prim glances at the sleeping boy then back to Rue.   "When will you go?" she asks, her voice sounding near tears.

 

"As soon as I can," Rue answers.

 

Prim bites her lip and nods.  

 

The dark skinned girl gets her gear together.   It isn't much, a water bottle with some purified water in it, a pack of dried beef, a pack of dried fruit, the glasses, and her slingshot.   She puts it all in a small pouch and slings it across her body.   "I'm ready."

 

My sister gives her a hug and doesn't appear to want to let go.  Rue clings to Prim just as tightly.   The affection and friendship between them is palpable.   Eventually Prim pulls away, there are tears glittering in her eyes but I can tell she's struggling to keep them contained.   "You take care out there, okay?"

 

"I will.  But if I don't come back..."

 

"You will!"

 

"If I don't," the girl from Eleven repeats.  "You do me a favor.   Win this thing for me.  Show them that they can't count us twelves out!"

 

"I'll do my best."

 

"You'll win.  Cross your heart!"

 

Prim makes an x over the left side of her chest.  "I promise."

 

"See you soon," Rue says instead of goodbye and clambers out from under the camouflaged opening.   

 

The cameras follow her as she slips across the stream and into the woods on the other side.   She finds a likely tree and scales it.  When she reaches a good height, she starts hopping from tree to tree like a squirrel.   There's something fascinating about how she uses the trees as a pathway.   However as fascinated as I am by the feat, I'm sure the Capitol isn't as interested.  

 

I'm right, because a few minutes later the Capitol starts replaying Taylor's death from early this morning.   I turn down the volume, I don't want to watch the girl's death.   I stand up and head over to the counter to cook, leaving Gale at the table.  

 

"Where is she going?"  Gale asks.  "Is the alliance over?"

 

I shake my head.  "No, she's going after Thresh.   She's going to try to convince him to join their alliance."

 

"She's going to get herself killed."

 

"She thinks it's the only choice.  Prim agrees with you, if you want to know."

 

Gale barks out a laugh.  "Is that so?  About the only thing we've agreed on in a while."

 

Since I got pregnant, I think but I don't say.   Instead, I continue butchering the turkey into smaller parts.   I could roast it, but that'd take too long.   Not to mention, you can make it stretch further if you make it into stews or casseroles.   Thinking of a casserole, I pull down yesterday's tesserae loaf and slice it up into cubes to dry.   One of my favorites is turkey and bread casserole with onions and herbs.   I'll make that for tonight.    Lunch is going to be a skillet of turkey, greens, and a few mulberries.  

 

Madge returns with the apples and bread.   Gale fills her in on what's happened while I cut up the apples to put in with the mulberries so I can turn them into jam.  

 

"You know, it's going to take a while for Rue to find Thresh," Madge points out.

 

"I know," I say.  "But Prim's got enough in the way supplies she shouldn't need to venture out."

 

"I wasn't thinking about her," Madge says softly.  "Peeta looks like he's in bad shape."

 

I nod my head.  "Prim's taking care of him.   At least his wounds aren't infected, the price of one of those antibiotic shots could buy all of Twelve," I say, remembering the price from when I was looking through the catalog.   "Burn creme is a lot less expensive."

 

"So it's only the cost of half of Twelve?"  Gale chimes in.

 

"Exactly," I say with a smile. 

 

Lunch is just as light hearted as the gathering expedition this morning.   With Madge there to act as a buffer, Gale and I are getting along.   I think part of it is that neither of us like airing our problems where outsiders can hear and part of it is that Madge keeps distracting us with questions of what it is like to forage in the woods.   She's like a child when it comes to them, she only sees the excitement and not the danger.   Gale and I have to constantly point out that there is a reason for the fence and it isn't just to keep us in, but to keep other things out.  

 

They're still playing highlights when Mandatory Viewing comes on.   I guess not much happened after Rue left to find Thresh.   The tribute recaps show most of the remaining non-Career tributes hunkered down, trying to outlast the others.  

 

Only Uranium and Rue are on the move.   Rue to Thresh.  Uranium to who knows where.   She seems to be looking for someone though.   I'm worried what will happen when she finds them.   She knows now that she didn't kill Marvel and that if he's not dead he's going to go out of his way to see her dead.

 

I go to bed that night worried less about the Careers finding Prim than the foxfaced girl from Five finding her.  

 

When I wake up the next morning, I find that not much has happened.   A fact that the morning commentators are lamenting on.   They're currently following Uranium, interjecting that the Careers are sleeping off an unsuccessful nighttime hunt.   I suppose I should be grateful, if the Careers weren't sleeping then the cameras would be focusing on them.   Uranium, at least, is unpredictable and sneaky.  

 

She's on the edge of the same stream that Jace drowned in.   She sees his footprints and sees that they lead into the water.   She frowns and backtracks along the bank upstream.   She must be trying to avoid all of the other tributes, I think.

 

Uranium slows down when the bank changes from mud to rock.   My eyes narrow, the location looks familiar.  Then it hits me, it's where Prim and Rue pulled Peeta ashore.   My breath catches.  Not more than a few hundred yards away from that spot is the cave that's sheltering my sister.  Uranium crouches down and examines the ground.  

 

The commentators are excitedly jabbering on how Uranium must be a good tracker and that it's very exciting knowing that she's so close to Prim and Peeta.   Exciting is not the word I'd use.  Terrifying comes closer.   And Uranium wouldn't need to be a good tracker to know that something's up.   I can see the drag marks clearly on my small television.    I imagine that they are even more pronounced in person.    The girl from Five traces the outline of a small footprint and smiles.  

 

She stands up, brushing her hands off on her pants.   Then she purses her lips and lets out a very familiar four note theme. 

 

I about fall out of my chair.   How did she learn that tune and from where?    Did she follow Prim and hear her whistling that before she found Rue and Peeta?   Is it a trap?  Is she planning on killing my sister? 

 

Prim's head pops out of the entrance of the cave a few seconds later.  I see her scanning the area and her eyes alight on the red-haired girl.

 

"Rani!"  she cries, scrambling out of the cave.   "You found us!"

 

Uranium, or Rani as I guess she's known, smiles at my sister.  "I told you I'd try to hook up with you."

 

"I wasn't sure if you weren't just humoring me."

 

"I was.  I was also telling the truth," she says.   "Who else would I team up with?  You're the best at identifying edible plants and making snares."

 

"You're not bad yourself," Prim says modestly.

 

Rani snorts.  "I kept messing up with the berries.   They don't have plants like this in Five."  She looks at Prim closely.  "Where's everyone else?"

 

My sister's face falls.  "Rue left to go look for Thresh."

 

Narrowing her eyes, Rani asks, "Why would she do that?  Where's big brother?"

 

"Peeta's hurt really bad.   He got burned in that Gamemakers' fire a couple of days ago."

 

"How bad?"  Rani asks intently.

 

"Really, really bad.  I'm having to keep him asleep so that he doesn't start screaming from the pain."

 

The red-headed girl frowns.   "I was hoping I was wrong," she mutters under her breath.  

 

"Wrong about what?"  Prim asks, obviously having heard her.  

 

"I found your old camp by the pool.  Speaking of..." she says and pulls out Prim's fishing net and tosses it to her.  "I found this.  I hope you don't mind, but I ate the fish."

 

"I don't mind.  You were saying?"

 

"I saw the fire and went to check it out.  Almost got caught by a Career who got nosy.   But it worked out, I got away in better shape than he did.  Considering the stuff you left behind, I figured things were pretty bad."

 

"Peeta saved us," Prim supplies.  "Rue and I froze.   Peeta carried the two of us until we could run on our own.  The fire got him when he was putting us down."

 

"Stupid, honorable boy.  I hope your sister appreciates him, otherwise I'm going to steal him from her," Rani's eyes are bright and her tone is a little too forced.

 

Prim laughs.   I don't.   I can see that Rani was telling the truth even though she was making it sound like a joke.  

 

Rani smiles tightly.  "Why don't you show me where you guys are camped out?"

 

"Okay!"  Prim says brightly, leading the older girl to the cave.  She moves aside the branches camouflaging the opening and climbs in.   Rani follows her and she gasps involuntarily when she sees Peeta's back.

 

The bandages have been removed and the burns are open to the air.   The skin is red and still very blistered.   There are a few patches of clean skin where Prim was able to apply what burn creme she had, but they're small islands of pale white in a sea of fire.  

 

"You weren't joking when you said it was bad, were you?" the girl from Five murmurs, her voice full of emotion.  She looks upset at seeing Peeta brought down like this.

 

"No, I wasn't," Prim answers with a shake of her head.  

 

"Then I suppose it was a good thing I got these," Rani says, reaching into a pocket on her jacket and pulling out six packets of burn creme.

 

Prim accepts them with an awed expression on her face.  "Where did you get these?" 

 

"Career camp.  One of their own is in a pretty bad way," she says with a smirk.  "They aren't going to miss something that he's gone through like crazy.   They're just going to think that he used it on some of his milder burns rather than think that anyone would be audacious enough to sneak into their camp.  I figured one of you was hurt and you could use these when I found you."

 

"Thank you, Rani!   These will really help a lot!" 

 

Prim gets down on her knees and opens one packet of creme.   She carefully dabs the white stuff on the worst of Peeta's burns.  She's very frugal with the salve and sets the packet to one side.   She repeats the process until most of Peeta's back is covered with a thin layer of the ointment.   Then she takes the packets and splits them open with a knife.   She scrapes the knife along the packaging, getting every smidge of medicine.   Then she wets down the little bit of creme with some warm water thinning  it out.   She spreads what's left of the creme on the less injured part of Peeta's back.  

 

"Why'd you do that?" Rani wants to know.

 

"They not as bad of a burn, but they still hurt," my sister replies. "This way I don't have anything going to waste."

 

The older girl nods.  "Now what do we do?" she asks.

 

"We wait for Rue," Prim says firmly.  

 

"If that's the case, I'm getting something to eat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written as part of NaNoWriMo in November 2012
> 
> Revised 7/25/13
> 
> Beta Read by RoseFyre.
> 
> Ahh, the fun times of an unreliable narrator. Yep Foxface joined the alliance and it'd been planned by Rue, Peeta, and Prim. So yes, the recognition call she knew honestly. I'd also had planned the nickname, of Rani for a while but until Prim or one of the alliance ran into her Katniss and thus the readers wouldn't know what it is. I'm pronouncing it "Rainy" since it is short for Uranium.
> 
> Also on Peeta's burns. I'd considered having Haymitch send them burn salve like in the books but the more I thought about it the more I disliked it as too similar too much of an easy way out. Having Foxface steal help from the Careers worked and did something to establish her character more.
> 
> Speaking of the Careers, Marvel is blinded in one eye. Falling burning debris can do that. He's also pretty badly burned or was until Glimmer slathered him with stuff. Clove is fine and has racked up another kill. But one we didn't need to see.
> 
> As for Gale, I have opinions on him. However, I don't hate the character, he's just done some things he shouldn't and made some bad decisions. He's just pretty single-minded and again we're looking at this through Katniss' eyes. Madge is important because for all that she's Katniss' friend, she's not involved in the drama.
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> 12\. Taylor (Female Tribute). District Eight. Killed by Clove. Knife to the head.
> 
> Up Next: The Rue finds Thresh, another tribute falls, and the Capitol unleashes a surprise.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

 

I go to bed worried about Prim.  I don't know what it is, but there is something about Rani that seems calculated.  Sly.   Like a fox.   It isn't just her face that gives me that impression.   It's something else and I can't quite put my finger on it.   The fact that Prim and I guess Rue and Peeta trust her enough to form an alliance with her should mean something, but it doesn't.   She's the kind of person who would say one thing to your face and stab you in the back the next moment.

 

My dreams are filled with red haired girls stabbing my sister and it is about as restful as the previous few nights.   If this keeps up much longer, I'm likely to have my mother dosing my tea with sleep syrup or something else to make me sleep.   I don't want it to come to that.  

 

To try to distract myself from Prim, I force myself to think of Madge and her enthusiasm for the wilderness beyond the fence.   I understand how that small rebellion can be so very freeing.  I feel it every time I slip under the wires and escape the coal dust coated desperation of the Seam for a few hours.    The woods are my haven.  My refuge.   They aren't the means to my survival but to my sanity as well.   Showing Madge how to gather food from them would be a good distraction for me.   Not to mention I can always use an extra pair of hands getting food for the winter.   After the death of my father, I never want to know that level of desperate hunger  of those few months before Peeta helped me ever again. 

 

Eventually, I manage to get a few hours of sleep.   It's still not very much because when I wake up it's still dark but I just can't sleep anymore.   I get up and turn the television on, making sure the volume is turned down so I don't wake my mother.   

 

The cameras are focused on the edge of the career camp.  Through some kind of night vision camera that gives everything a greenish gray tinge.  I think I can see a tribute hiding on the edge of the clearing but things aren't clear enough for me to make out.  

 

I pull out some leftovers to reheat in the oven and make some tea.   When it's ready I let myself immerse myself in the Games while I eat.  

 

One of the cameras moves and I am finally able to make out the tribute hiding at the edge of the Cornucopia clearing.   It's Rue.   She's wearing those night vision goggles that she took and is watching the place where the Careers are staked out closely.   Most of them are sleeping but I can see one of them up on guard duty.   From the height and figure I can tell it's Glimmer.  

 

She's not really paying that much attention to her surroundings but I can see why Rue is waiting for her to move.   It's clear that the girl from Eleven has to run across the clearing to get to the cliff that leads off into the wheat field.   The commentators explain that the cliff is too high from the woods side to get down without risking serious mechanical injury so the clearing is Rue's only option.   However, the way that Glimmer is standing means that if Rue tries to sneak across the open space she would likely get seen.  

 

The standoff continues for another twenty minutes while I finish my breakfast.    Finally, Glimmer moves to go wake up whoever is next on watch and Rue makes her move.  

 

Slipping out from the underbrush, Rue runs as fast as she can hugging the edge of the forest to try to obscure her figure.   She reaches the edge of the cliff and glances down.   Too high.   She heads toward the edge nearer to the lake, glancing all the while at the flickering light that is the Career camp.   Luck is on her side because Glimmer and Marvel have a small conversation in low tones that not even the microphones can pick up.   I'm guessing that the two from One are debating when they should leave the pack but for all I know they could be talking about their families back home.   It's too dark for the Capitol lip reader to make out what they are saying much to the chagrin of the reporters.  

 

When she reaches the cliff nearest the lake, Rue slips over the edge.  It's only about a five foot drop and she makes it easily.  At the bottom of the cliff, she takes time to get her bearings.   She looks for any sign of Thresh on the ground at the base of the escarpment.   In the pre-dawn light, I can see a few bent stalks that could indicate a path.   Rue sees them too because she sets off to follow them.   The wheat is as tall as her chest but it isn't so tall like the corn that they grow in Nine.   The field is vast, but the cliffs on the other side are visible in the dim light.  

 

That's where Thresh is but Rue doesn't know that.   She's carefully navigating through the grain, making swishing noises with every step.   She frowns but soldiers on, the sound is inevitable so long as she doesn't run it can be passed off as the wind.  

 

The false dawn slips back into darkness and in the gray green world I can see a speck of brighter green near the base of a cliff.   It's light.  Probably from a fire.   It's only visible from certain angles but Rue spots it.  

 

If anything, she becomes even more cautious.   Her gait slows to almost a crawl and she's tensed to drop into the field at a moment's notice.   It's not necessary, the camera shows the audience that Thresh is still asleep, but Rue doesn't know that so her caution is warranted.  

 

She gets to the opening of the cave and peeks in.  She seems relieved that it's Thresh and not some other tribute.   She steps to one side of the cave and backs away about ten or so feet.   Then she whistles her recognition call. 

 

Thresh starts awake, a knife clenched in one hand.   "Who's there?" he asks warily.  

 

"It's me," Rue replies from outside the cave.

 

"What're you doing here, little girl?"  Thresh asks.  He doesn't look happy to hear her, but at the same time doesn't look like he's going to charge her with his knife.  

 

Rue ignores his question.  "You gonna kill me?"

 

Thresh chuckles at the question.  "This is the Hunger Games, little girl, only one of us gets to go home.  But I won't kill you right now, if that's what you're asking.  Later..."he trails off, letting her and the audience draw their own conclusions.

 

"That's fair," she says with a shrug.  "You gonna come out of that cave and talk to me?"

 

"Wasn't planning on it."

 

"Thresh!" Rue exclaims, stomping her foot.  "You get yourself out here right now!"

 

A smile crosses Thresh's lips and he gets to his feet and saunters out of the cave and into the pre-dawn pale light.  "Yes, ma'am!"

 

Rue removes her night vision goggles and shakes her head.   "You're so annoying sometimes."

 

"Now you sound like my little sister."

 

"She must be smart, then," Rue shoots back. 

 

"She is," Thresh says with wistful smile.  Then he looks down at his district partner.  "So what'd you risk death for to find me?"

 

"You remember Peeta and Prim?" she asks.  

 

"The two from Twelve that you palled around with during training?  The kids on fire?  They're kinda hard to forget, little girl.  What of them?"

 

"Peeta's been hurt real bad.   He got hurt saving me and Prim.   I'm no good at being the protector so I thought..."

 

Thresh fills in what she was going to say.  "You thought I could come fill that role?"

 

She nods.

 

"Why would I do that?  I got everything I need right here and the Careers are scared pissless of me."  He makes a good point.   Why would he be willing to help?  Why would he want to?  He'd said it before, only one Tribute goes home.

 

Rue seems prepared for that question.  "'Cause you're a good person, Thresh.   You came and tucked me in at night when you thought I was asleep.   You held me and let me cry on you on the train.   You didn't kill me when you had the chance.   You don't want to kill me now.   So help me and Prim have a fighting chance.  Show them that we don't have to play by their rules and kill each other just 'cause they want us to."

 

Another smile, this one almost rueful, crosses Thresh's lips.   "You been planning that speech long, little girl?"

 

"Pretty much since I left, yeah.   Did it work?"

 

"Yeah," he sighs.  "It worked."

 

Rue beams and dashes over to give Thresh a hug.   

 

He returns it briefly then pulls away.  "So how is this gonna work?" he asks.

 

The girl from Eleven looks up at him.   "We keep each other alive until all of the Careers are dealt with.  Then we split up going our own separate ways to see which of us can outlast the rest."

 

"So no killing anyone in the alliance?"

 

"Not unless they try to kill you first," Rue amends.   "Peeta put that in.   I think so that if we're wrong about someone you aren't held my a promise they're no longer keeping."

 

"Peeta sounds like he's pretty smart," the large boy observes.

 

Rue smiles again.  "Oh, he is!   He's smart and nice and really sweet!"

 

"Sounds like someone's got a little crush."

 

"Maybe a little one," she says looking at her feet bashfully.  "But he's in love with Prim's sister so..."

 

"It's okay, little girl."  To his credit, Thresh doesn't give her any false platitudes about her finding someone else when she's older.  Odds are she isn't going to get any older.   "I think I can live with those rules.   Kill all the Careers and not killing anyone in the alliance unless they try to kill me first.  Yeah, those are doable."  He looks down on her.  "Okay, I'm in."

 

Rue gives Thresh another hug.   "Yay!  You're going to love Peeta and Prim.   Well, once Peeta gets better.  He's been sleeping because of the burns."

 

"I'm sure I will.  Now, let me get my stuff and you can tell me all about it on the trip back."

 

oOo

 

I am able to go back to sleep after that and actually sleep more than a few hours.  I guess knowing Rue was okay and that Thresh would help was a relief.   It may also have been the revelation that Prim's alliance wasn't planning on killing each other after their alliance broke.   Either way, it is nice to able to get some sleep that isn't plagued by nightmares.  

 

When I wake up, it's close to noon.  I'm surprised that neither Madge nor Gale has stopped by yet.   I get up and take care of my morning needs.   I deliberately do not turn on the television.   I don't want the worry to start just yet.   I grab my gathering bag after getting dressed, eating breakfast and milking Lady.   I don't plan on going into the woods today but the Meadow has a lot of resources too.  

 

I walk to the field to find that Gale is there with his siblings and Madge.   Madge is seated with Posy in her lap and the two are discussing the merits of which flowers make the best jewelry.   Vick, Rory and Gale are playing a game with some misshapen ball.  The whole scene makes me smile.  

 

"Morning!" I call.

 

The boys stop their game to wave at me and Madge and Posy get up.   Posy runs over to me.  "Katniss!  Katniss!  We's makin' chains!"

 

I smile down at the five year old.   "You are?  What kind of chains?"

 

"Dandelion and daisy chains.  Madge says it'll make me pretty."

 

"You're already pretty."

 

Posy scrunches up her nose.  "I'll be more pretty!  Come on!   You help!" 

 

She grabs my hand and starts tugging me over to where Madge is standing.   At her feet is a pile of various flowers mostly dandelions but a few others including Prim's namesake.     Seeing that flower, I feel a stab of guilt.  I should be watching the Games, in case anything happens.  I owe it to Prim, and to Peeta for that matter, to see them through until the end even if that end is most likely death.  

 

Madge seems to see that I am getting ready to bolt because she says, "You don't have to make flower chains with us if you have other plans."

 

I nod, grateful for the out.  "I was just going to gather a few greens for lunch.  Rue and Thresh are on their way back to the group and..."

 

"You want to see how Prim is doing," Madge finishes.

 

"It isn't just Prim," I say softly. 

 

Madge raises her eyebrows.  "Oh?"

 

"I want to see what happens with Peeta and Rue as well.   I know I should only care about Prim, but I like them too."

 

"There's nothing wrong with liking someone," Madge soothes, pulling me away from the rest of the group.  

 

"I don't like them like that!"  I protest.

 

She bends down and picks a yarrow flower.   "I didn't say you did."

 

"It just feels wrong.  I know that they are Prim's competition.  That only one of them can come home, but that doesn't mean I want to watch them die."

 

"And that's what separates you from the people in the Capitol."  Madge regards me seriously.  "You care about those people in there and want them all to be able to go home.  They don't.   They don't see us as human, just game pieces to live and die for their entertainment."

 

I'm shocked by her words.  "Madge!   Quiet!  Someone might hear!"

 

"Who?" she asks looking back to point to where Posy is trying to convince her older brothers to play with her.   "They're the closest."

 

I shake my head.  "Still, it's not safe.   Who knows who's listening?"

 

"It doesn't matter.   The words are said.  Besides, I'm just a kid what can they do to me?"  She gives a little shrug and bends down to pick another flower. 

 

I don't say what I think.  That they can kill her, her family, anyone she's close to.   I've heard stories of this being done in the past to people who've dared to defy the Capitol.   Considering I'm her friend, I've got a vested interest in her not pissing the wrong people off.

 

My guilt and worry get the better of me and I cut my time in the Meadow short.   Gale and the kids wave at me but I didn't really talk with them much.   Which suited me just fine, after Madge's outburst I was left feeling even more on edge and troubled.

 

As soon as I get home I turn the television on, it's showing the Career Camp not Prim like I'd hoped.  Most of the group is sleeping but both Cato and Clove are awake.   They are leaning up against the Cornucopia.  Her head is resting on his shoulder and their left hands are entwined.   I wonder why the cameras are lingering on them when I see a small head pop up over the edge of the cliff leading to the wheat field.   That explains it, Thresh and Rue are waiting for when the coast is clear to make their way across the clearing. 

 

The two Careers don't notice the people watching them from the edge of the cliff.  They are too engrossed in other worries.  "When do you think we should strike out on our own?" Clove asks Cato, tilting her head up to look at him.

 

"Not until we take out the two males from Eleven and Twelve," Cato answers.

 

She makes a face.  "I was afraid you'd say that.   Not that I disagree, having numbers on our side would be a good idea., but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep myself from gutting Marvel.   He's a liability."

 

"Agreed.   Too bad Glimmer would likely kill us for putting him out of our misery."

 

"She'd try."  Clove grins ferally. 

 

Cato returns it and drops a kiss on her nose.  "She'd try."

 

"After we kill Eleven and Twelve, what then?"

 

Cato seems to know that she's not asking about the immediate aftermath of Thresh and Peeta's death but something further down the line.   "I'm not going to kill you," he vows.  

 

"I don't think I can kill you either," Clove admits.  "So what do we do?"

 

"The Capitol will figure something out," he says with conviction in his tone.  "I'm sure of it.  We've just got to give them a good Games and they'll reward us.   You'll see."

 

"I hope so.  All I've ever wanted was for both of us to be Victors and then start a family and have a whole family of Victors."

 

Cato tilts her head up and bends down to give her a deep kiss.  She reaches up with her free hand to pull him closer.

 

I look away, feeling like I'm intruding on something private.  I know the Capitol will be watching this and salivating over the two doomed lovers but I just feel sorry for them.   They're lives are going to be ruined for the Capitol's pleasure.  And there's absolutely nothing that can be done about it.  

 

About another hour passes of them talking and making out, an hour I spend cleaning and listening for the announcers to tell me that either Rue and Thresh are on the move or they're going to show Prim's group.   I'm not so lucky.   Thankfully, Cato and Clove seem to think that sleeping to noon is enough and that it's time to go hunting.

 

"Get up," Clove announces, kicking Marvel for good measure.  

  
The three resting tributes jolt awake and sit up.  

 

Cato makes sure he has everyone's attention before saying, "We're going hunting."

 

"So early?" Marvel asks, yawning.  

 

"It's not early.   It's nearly noon and we've let Eleven and Twelve stay alive for far too long,"  Cato answers.  

 

Clove smiles.  "I want to get my hands on Twelve and show him that he shouldn't have taken my knives and not my life."

 

"Since we're going to be moving fast, one of you is going to stay here so you don't slow us down."

 

"Hey!" Marvel protests.  "I can keep up just fine."

 

"He didn't name any names now did he?"  Clove smirks.  "But if you're feeling under the weather, I'm sure something can be done."  

 

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Marvel snarls. 

 

Clove just smiles and turns to look at Cato again.  

 

The blond boy ignores the exchange and regards the boy from District Three.   "You're going to stay behind Three.  You're too loud and you don't run very fast."

 

Axel shrugs.  "I figured.   Those aren't important skills where I come from.   I wouldn't mind a day of rest." 

 

"Good," Cato says with a nod.  "The rest of you, grab your gear.  We're heading out."

 

Marvel, Glimmer and Clove grab weapons, canteens, and little food.   Cato doesn't even bother with that.  He only straps his sword onto his waist and slips a knife into one boot.   When he sees that the rest of them are ready he sets off into the woods, skirting the lake.   They must be making a round of the lake to see any tributes are camping out by it.   Not a bad plan and it keeps them away from Prim's hiding place.  

 

Axel watches them go and when he's sure that they're out of earshot, he is suddenly in motion.   He weaves his way through the mines and pulls out three spools of wire.   They're like the wire that Rue had in her pack so I think that it must be standard equipment for the Gamemakers to include.   Then he bends down to one spot and carefully uncovers the mine buried there.  He carefully hooks up the wire to the mine and reburies it.   The whole process takes a little more than twenty minutes. 

 

While he's messing with the mines, Rue's head pops up again and sees the coast is clear.   She motions for Thresh to give her a boost and scrambles over the edge and takes off for the bushes on the edge of the forest.   Thresh then hoists himself up and follows Rue.  

 

When they're safely in the trees, Rue looks around to get her bearings and leads Thresh off in the direction of the stream and Prim and Peeta.   If they're lucky, they'll get there by nightfall.  

 

The camera moves from the Career Camp to Prim's cave.   Inside, I see Prim seated behind Peeta checking his back.   He's awake, sitting up, and eating some canned soup.

 

"So when did Rani get here?" he asks.   I'm guessing he's just recently woke up and is getting caught up on the stuff he missed while passed out.  

 

"Yesterday," Prim answers.  "I was glad to see her.  It's a little scary out here."

 

"That's an understatement," Peeta says with a smile.   "I'm sorry I haven't been around to look after you."

 

"It's okay.   You saved my life and got hurt for doing it.   I owed you."

 

"You sound like your sister!"  The smile widens.  

 

"I do not!"

 

"Do too!"

 

Prim comes around to mock glare at Peeta.  "You take that back or I'll tell everyone your secrets!"

 

Peeta waves his hands in front of him in surrender.  "Okay.  Okay, I take it back.  You're nothing like Katniss.   She'd never threaten to expose everything I've told her in confidence just because she can't take a joke."

 

"Yep!   She'd just shoot an arrow into you and be done.  I'm the nice one!   And you'd better not forget it!"

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

Prim sits back on her heels and looks up at Peeta.  "You know, I don't know all of your secrets?"

 

"You don't?  I thought I'd told you everything, Prim."

 

"Nope.  You haven't told me when you fell in love with my sister!"

 

Peeta blushes and looks off to one side.   "I haven't, have I?"

 

Prim shakes her head. 

 

He rubs the back of his head.  "It's not really much of a story.  It was a long  time ago.   The first day of school, actually.    My father walked me to school.  He did that with all of us until we were old enough to walk ourselves and he noticed something.  Or rather someone.   Your sister.  Her hair was in two braids, like yours," he says tugging playfully on one of her twin plaits.   "And she was wearing a red checked dress.  My father bent down and whispered to me.   'You see that girl over there?' And I nodded.  'Well, I wanted to marry her mother but she ran off with a coal miner.' 

 

"I looked up at my father incredulously.   I mean, my dad was the baker and I couldn't imagine anyone turning my father down.   My father saw my confusion and smiled at me.  'He has something I don't.' he told me.  'He's got a voice that can make even the birds in the trees stop to listen.'  That just confused me even more.  Then a little later in the day, the teacher asked if anyone knew the Valley Song.   For a few seconds no one raised their hand.  We all knew the song, of course, no one wanted to volunteer though.   Then your sister stood up and said she knew it.  The teacher invited her down and told her to sing.   I about fell out of my chair.  Her voice was so sweet and pure.  I listened and noticed that the birds, like my father said, stopped to listen to your sister sing.  I fell in love right in that instant.   I've been in love with her ever since."

 

"Oh," Prim says.  "That's a long time."  It is a long time.   All these years.  Is that why he helped me all those years ago?  Because he's been in love with me since we were both five?  It's the only explanation I can come up with.   Peeta was right, I guess I am unobservant.  

 

"Tell me about it."  Peeta rubs the back of his head again and echoes my own thoughts.  "For the longest time I don't think she even knew I existed."

 

"Well, she knows you exist now," Prim points out. 

 

"That's true.  She knows I exist now.  I just wish I got to spend more time with her."

 

"You can if you win," Prim says.

 

Peeta shakes his head.  "I'm not going to win, Prim, and we are not talk about this any further."

 

Unlike last time, Prim won't let herself be pushed aside.  "Yes, we will, Peeta!   We both know the odds and they aren't good.  If I don't make it, you've got to win.   One of us has to.  For Katniss!"

 

What?  For me?   I'm stunned.   What is Prim doing? 

 

Peeta seems to see something I don't because he just smiles.  "Using my own words against me, huh?"

 

"Yep!  Whatever it takes."

 

"Fine, if by some extremely unlikely chance you happen to die before I do, I'll try to win for Katniss.  Happy?"

 

Prim nods.  

 

The camera cuts to just outside of the cave where Rani is seated.  I can tell she'd heard the whole exchange.  She doesn't look happy.  I can't really blame her, after all her allies are talking about going home which means she isn't.   That wouldn't make anyone happy.  

 

The action changes back to the career pack.   They're on the trail of some tribute, I don't know which one, but I do know it's either Tacoma from Seven or Clint from Ten.   I'm not really interested as to which and unless something fantastic happens, the Gamemakers are going to be following the Careers for the foreseeable future.  They might change back to Prim and Peeta when Rue and Thresh get there, but not before.  

 

I have time to take a nap and decide to do it.   I leave the television on but turn the volume down.   I'm hoping that the excited shrieks of the commentators will wake me up if something unusual happens.  

 

I wake up a few hours later when my mother comes home.  She's got a bag of bread and a few other supplies.   Whoever her most recent patient was must have had money.  That means it's either a long time Peacekeeper or someone from town.  No one in the Seam pays in food or money.  

 

My mother pours me a glass of milk and I accept it with a small grimace.   I see the cameras are now following Tacoma through a lightly wooded rocky hilled section of the Arena.   The girl looks harried and rushed.   I'm guessing she's the tribute the Careers have been following.

 

My suspicions are confirmed a few moments later with the cameras cut away to the Career pack hot on her trail.   Clove is in the lead with Marvel bringing up the rear.   They catch sight of her ahead of them running up the hill.   They exchange tight grins at their prey.

 

"Run, District Seven.   There's no place you can hide," Clove taunts.  

 

Tacoma doesn't bother with a response, saving her breath for running.   She's too heavy to climb easily and both Glimmer and Clove have distance attacks so she needs to stay far enough ahead so that she won't get into their range.  

 

Tacoma's nears the top of the hill and stops to look over her shoulder.   When she turns back, there's a wolf-like shape silhouetted at the crest.  

 

Tacoma freezes.  

 

The Careers initially let out a triumphant whoop until they notice the same silhouette that Tacoma did.

 

They stop dead in their tracks, Marvel stumbling into Glimmer accidentally.  

 

Another form joins the first on the ridge followed by another and another.   Over and over until twelve wolf-like forms of varying sizes and colors are standing on the crest of the hill.  

 

A small one takes a step forward and that sets off a whole chain of events.   The Careers break and scramble down the hill toward the lake and the Cornucopia beyond.   Tacoma darts to her left and tries to run perpendicular to both the Careers and the muttations.  

 

A few of the mutts start take off after the Careers  but are quickly herded away by the largest of the pack.   They whine in protest, but follow whatever orders they have been programmed with.   The rest of the pack follow after Tacoma.  

  
The girl is tired from her earlier run and after several hundred yards starts to slow.   The pack dogs her heels, coming close enough to nip at her but never actually bite.   Finally the girl whirls around, pulling out her weapon, a small hatchet.   She must have gotten that from a sponsor, since she didn't have one on the recap after the Cornucopia.  

 

The mutts circle her.   They're not like real wolves in a lot of ways.  Their fur is more like human hair and their eyes seem more human.   Around their necks are collars with little medallions with numbers etched on them.   I'm able to make out a three, four and six on a few.   They also don't act like real wolves.   They seem to be toying with Tacoma.   Every so often, one will dart in from behind and nip at her and when she turns to attack darts away and another muttation will dart in.  

 

On and on the taunting goes until finally in desperation, Tacoma flings her hatchet at one of the mutts with an eight on their collar.   This seems to be what they were waiting for because the two mutts with six on their collars jump in. 

 

The smaller of the two hamstrings the girl from Seven.   Tacoma screams and falls to the ground.   The larger of the two lunges forward and clamps his teeth around the girl's throat and shakes his head violently.  

 

The sound of Tacoma's neck breaking is something I never will forget.  

 

A cannon sounds.

 

The muttations step back to admire their handiwork and let out an unearthly howl of triumph.   I shudder and turn away.   I know that the Gamemakers would never let Tacoma live after her stunt in the interviews.  But this, this was just cruel. 

 

The trumpets blare and I wonder what kind of horrors the Gamemakers have planned next.

 

Claudius Templesmith's voice rings out.  "Attention tributes. Attention. The regulations acquiring a single victor has been suspended. From now on, two victors may be crowned if both originate from the same district. This will be the only announcement."

 

Before I can process just what this means.  There's a knock at the door.  

 

My mother answers it and I turn to see two white uniformed Peacekeepers in the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written 12/1/12  
> Revised 7/27/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre.
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> 13\. Tacoma, District Seven, Killed by Muttations (specifically the male mutt from district Six)
> 
> Up Next: The reactions to the Gamemaker announcement and we find out why the Peacekeepers are knocking at Katniss' door.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

I can't even manage to gasp before both Peacekeepers are shoved to one side and Effie Trinket, the escort for District Twelve, waltzes in.  

 

She looks around and wrinkles her nose.  "Oh dear heavens!   What an absolutely dreadful place this is!  This wouldn't do at all, not at all!" she says, without even bothering to say hello. 

 

We both gape at the pink bewigged woman like she's grown a second head.  "What?" my mother finally manages to get out.

 

"The interviews!" Effie says like it explains everything.  

 

"I thought they only did the interviews for the top eight."  I'm confused.   There are still eleven tributes left, three more to go before they interview the friends and family.

 

Effie turns to me.   "Didn't you see the announcement?"

 

My mother and I both nod, of course we saw it.  The announcement was only moments before.

 

She waves a gloved hand.  "Well, then, you know all about it!   Since two tributes can win so long as they are from the same district, that means that each team remaining counts as one tribute!" she says triumphantly.   It makes a weird kind of sense, if you count each of the four remaining district pairs of One, Two, Eleven and Twelve as one and the singleton tributes from Three, Five, and Ten also as one you have seven tributes remaining.   Even if one member from the remaining pairs dies, you'd still have seven tributes according to this logic.  

 

"But why wouldn't our house do for our interviews?" my mother asks.  

 

The Capitol woman gives our house a cursory appraisal.  "It's so dingy, dirty, and depressing," she giggles a little at her alliteration.  "No one wants to see that!  Least of all the sponsors in the Capitol," she says pointedly giving the two of us a quick glance.   "That's why it's so much better if we take all of the family members to the Capitol, give them makeovers, and have them interviewed by none other than Caesar Flickerman himself!"  She sounds like she's talking to a child, which annoys me.  

 

"So all of the remaining tributes' families are going to the Capitol?"  I ask.

 

"Isn't that what I just said?" her voice indicates her annoyance.

 

"You'll have to forgive my daughter, it's just a big change from how things used to happen," my mother excuses me.  

 

"I know!   It was President Snow's idea.  Isn't it just genius?  You get to come to the Capitol and see all of the wondrous sights it has to offer.  You get to stay in the same quarters that the tributes stay in, eat the same food, and watch the Games at a state of the art facility.  He's such a generous man!"  Effie gushes.  

 

I see another reason for President Snow's generosity.   Hostages.   We're going to be hostages to ensure our loved ones' good behavior.   There must be something going on for him to go to these lengths as well as to allow the rule change.   I think back to Madge's words in the Meadow earlier.   Maybe she's not the only one who's voicing their displeasure with the Games.   Cato and Clove, their love is clearly doomed and that can't sit well with people.  Then there's Rue and Prim, both so young and with the odds clearly not in their favor, but still endearing and lovable.   Finally there's Peeta, the man so in love with his district partner's sister, me, that he's willing to die to make sure she goes home to her family.   No, I can see how this year, in particular, circumstances have made these Games a potential flashpoint for rebellion.  

 

"I guess when you put it that way," my mother says slowly.  "How can we say no?"

 

Effie beams at us.   "Exactly!  We have a big, big, big day ahead of us.  So snap to it!"

 

"Is there anything we should bring with us?" my mother asks.  

 

The District Twelve escort looks up and down with an expression on her face like she smells something rotten.  "I certainly wouldn't bring any clothes," she says with a sniff.  "But maybe something personal and relevant to your interview, like a stuffed animal of Prim's or the first flower you got from Peeta, Katniss."

 

"I ate it," I say drily.  

 

"Oh well, yes.  Not that then," Effie stumbles .  She looks around our house and her eyes light upon the sketches Peeta drew.  "Oh!  These are exquisite!  I'd love to meet the artist.  Maybe commission them for a portrait."

 

I smile ruefully, naturally she'd notice those.  "You've already met the artist."

 

Effie turns, blinking at me in confusion.  "I have?"

 

"Peeta drew those."

 

She taps her cheek as she regards the sketches again.  "My, my, isn't he a man of talent?  Well, it'd be a shame to lose this kind of talent.  I guess we'll just have to make sure he wins now, won't we?"  She gives me a look I can't decipher. 

 

I nod my head, unsure if I should agree with the woman or not.  Now that both he and Prim can win, I want them both to come home.   But if I do, will she take it the wrong way?  Probably.  

 

"We should definitely take these with us," Effie decides.  "I'm sure that if more people in the Capitol see this talent they will want to preserve it."  She studies them again.  "He certainly knows how to capture a moment.  You actually look lovely in a few of these."

 

I stifle a snort.  "Thanks."

 

"Anything else?  Anything of Prim's?"

 

My mother shakes her head.  "We don't have a lot and her stuffed bear fell apart years ago."  Yes, about five years ago to be exact.   After my father died, my sister sobbed into that bear until his stuffing fell out.   She still cuddled with it until something new took the bear's place, Buttercup.

 

Thinking of the cat, I look around.  He's nowhere to be seen.  "What should we do about Buttercup?" I ask.  "Prim wouldn't like it if we didn't take care of him."

 

"Buttercup?" Effie asks.

 

"Prim's cat," my mother explains.  "And there's also her goat, Lady."

 

The woman seems to ponder that for a few moments.  "Yes, that could be a problem.   Anyone you can ask to look after them?  They would not be appropriate to bring with you to the Capitol.  I mean, think of the carpet!"

 

My mother and I share a look, we both know that Hazelle and Gale would be ideal but do we want to involve them?

 

"Maybe Madge?" I suggest.   "She's the Mayor's daughter."

 

"Is she a friend of yours?" Effie asks in surprise.  She must think I'm trying to put on airs.  Like anyone in the Seam'd do that, we have more important things to do, like stay alive.  

 

I nod.  "We go to the same school."

 

"Ah.  Well, you can go ask her while I fetch the Mellarks.   We don't have all day, you know."

 

Taking it for the dismissal that it is, I glance over at my mother who makes a shooing motion.   I smile gratefully at her and turn toward the door.   There, one of the Peacekeepers, the same one from the Justice building, Gneiss, accompanies me to Madge's house.   She doesn't try to have a conversation and for that I am extremely grateful.   I could do without the honor of going to the Capitol, having to fake my excitement and pleasure is going to be tough.  I want to do it as little as possible.  

 

At the Mayor's house, I knock on the door and the maid answers.   She sees the Peacekeeper with me and her eyes widen.   I ask for Madge and the woman nods her head.  

 

"Do you need to go in with me?" I ask Peacekeeper Gneiss.

 

The woman gives me an odd look before asking, "You planning on running away?"

 

I shake my head.  I'd likely get caught and even if I didn't, my family would pay for it.  

 

"Then, I can wait out here," the female Peacekeeper says.

 

"Thanks."  I'm a little confused why she's so nice to me, but I hazard it has something to do with my pregnancy.  I don't remember her as one of the Hob customers and she hasn't bought anything from me.  Still, I'm not about to turn down kindness from a Peacekeeper.

 

Madge comes downstairs, I can see her eyes are wary.   "What's going on?" she asks.

 

"They're taking my mother and me to the Capitol.  For the final eight interviews."

 

Madge catches on faster than I did earlier. "So they're counting each of the district pairs as one, huh?"

 

"Seems that way.   But since my mother and I will be gone we need someone to look after Lady and Buttercup for us." 

 

She looks confused for a moment then realization dawns.  She knows I mean for her to get Gale to care for the animals and not her, although the thought of Madge trying to milk Lady is a funny one.   "I'll make sure they're well taken care of.  How are you doing?"

 

"I'll be okay," I reassure her.   "I'm sure nothing will happen, the Capitol just doesn't want to see our depressing poverty.   You know how it is."

 

Her eyes tell me she knows exactly how it is.  "I do.   You take care of yourself.  I'll see you when you get back."

 

I want to stay longer, say more.  But I know better.  "Thanks.  Say goodbye to everyone for me."

 

"I will."

 

I give my friend a quick hug and she shows me out.   Gneiss nods at me and we walk toward the bakery.   Once again we walk in silence.   I prefer it that way and I'm grateful that the Peacekeeper understands.

 

When we get there, I notice that parked in front of the building are two cars.  I've never been in one before, there's no need in Twelve.   It's a small enough district that you can walk most everywhere.   Effie is waiting on the porch tapping one high heeled foot. 

 

When she spots me, she lets out an impatient snort.  "I was wondering when you would show up.   It's a big, big, big day and we've got a schedule to keep."

 

"We do?"  I ask.  I figured it doesn't matter so long as Prim and Peeta are still alive when we get interviewed.

 

"Of course, we do!   Why, we don't want to keep Cinna or Portia waiting.   I even had them send their prep teams with us on the train so they could start the preliminary work."

 

"Um, that's very efficient of you?" I say hesitantly. 

 

Effie beams at me.  "That's what I told Haymitch!  He didn't want to send them.  But I told him if we did the preliminary work on the train then we'd be first to get to the interviews.   The early bird gets the pearl as they say!"

 

"I thought the early bird got the worm?" I ask wryly. 

 

"Who wants worms?"  Effie says with a shudder.  "Yuck.  No, I'm sure it's pearls.  Everyone likes those."

 

I shake my head at the woman but climb into the back of the car anyway.   A few moments later I'm joined by my mother and Peeta's eldest brother, Bing.   Mr. Mellark, his wife, and his middle son, Farl get into the car behind us.   Effie looks back and forth between vehicles before deciding to climb into my car.  I don't blame her, I wouldn't want to be in a closed, confined space with Mrs. Mellark either.  

 

The car ride is silent.  Or as silent as it can be with Effie talking about the stylists and the Capitol.   But other than a few non-committal grunts, none of the rest of us says anything.   I'm not really sure what I'd say anyway.  

 

The interior of the train is like nothing I've ever seen.  It's sumptuous and filled with luxuries that no one in Twelve would even think of owning.  It puts the Mayor's richly appointed house to shame.   

 

I don't get a lot of time to look around because I'm immediately descended on by a trio of chattering Capitol people.   This must be the prep team that Effie's mentioned.   I don't even have time to put up a protest before I am whisked off to a large compartment in another car.  

 

When we get there, they start to remove my clothing and I finally find my voice.   "Stop!  What are you doing?"

 

The three pause and look at each other, expressions of dismay clear on their heavily made up faces.   "We're here to make you pretty," the woman with dyed green skin says after a few seconds. 

 

"Oh please, Octavia, you're giving her far too much credit," the other woman with aqua spikes and gold tattoos scoffs.   "We're going to do our best to make you look presentable.   It's not going to be easy.  You are nothing like Primrose.  She was a dream."

 

The mention of Prim reminds me why I am on this train and in this car.  "You did this for my sister, right?"

 

The three nod.  

 

I don't know how Prim handled that, she's been very body-shy since she's entered adolescence.  "What are your names?" I ask and realize that my voice sounds harsh so I try again.  "I mean, I'd like to know the names of the people who made my sister look even more like an angel."

 

The male of the trio beams at me.  "Didn't I tell you she'd understand?  Well, didn't I?"

 

The woman with aqua spikes rolls her eyes.  "You did, Flavius.  And I still stand by my original statement that you're giving her too much credit.  Why, I bet she's never waxed her legs before."

 

"That's not a fair bet, Venia," Flavius whines.   "You know no one out in the districts waxes."

 

I raise an eyebrow at this completely confused as to what this waxing they are referring to is.  "Um, so where do we want to start?" I ask to try to get back to the subject at hand.  If I have to be made pretty, I'd rather it be done as quickly as possible. 

 

"Hair," Octavia states.

 

"Nails," Flavius counters.

 

"Both, and I'll start on the waxing.  Maybe if we get this done fast enough we can actually get some sleep tonight," Venia says with an eye on the clock on the wall.

 

The other two stylists nod and beckon to me but I hold up one hand.   "What about my mother and the Mellarks?" I ask.  "Don't you have to do them too?"

 

Venia taps the side of her cheek.  "Your mother, yes.  The Mellarks are being done by Portia's team.  We're Cinna's prep team," she explains as if that means something.  

 

It doesn't, but I nod anyway.  I suspect that asking any more questions will annoy them.  

 

Taking my nod as an indication to start their ministrations, the three descend on me.  Flavius clucks disapprovingly at the state of my fingernails which are short and ragged from work.  He spends a lot of time buffing and filing them before covering them with a clear layer of some kind of paint.  

 

At the same time, Octavia starts on my hair pouring chemicals and glop on it then instructing me to lay back against a sink I didn't see when I came into the room to rinse it all out before starting again.  I can't see what she is doing and I fervently hope that my hair won't be pink or some other unnatural color when she is done. 

 

Then Venia starts on the waxing and I fight to keep myself from reacting as the hot wax is smeared on my leg.  I lift my head to say something when the woman violently yanking the wax away from part of my leg distracts me.   This time I'm unable to stifle the moan that comes out and the woman looks up at me.  "This wouldn't be so bad if you weren't so hairy," she says unsympathetically.   "It's like you've never even shaved, waxed or depilatoried before."

 

"I haven't," I answer, unsure of what the last option was but guessing it had to do with body hair.

 

"Well, then it's your fault it's so bad," she retorts.

 

I want to ask if there is a less painful option but decide against it.   For all of their frivolousness, the three are Capitol citizens and I'm not.   I don't know if one or all of them are spies or Peacekeepers in disguise.  It's better not to antagonize them.   "I'm sorry," I say instead.  "I've just never had the opportunity to do so."

 

Venia nods and the three continue their work.   As they prepare me, they talk about the Games and how excited they are that one of their tributes has made it so far.   They also talk about Cinna's genius with costumes and reassure me that what he has planned for my mother and I are perfect.  

 

The fact that Cinna had time to plan makes me wonder just how long President Snow was planning on having the final eight interviews held in the Capitol.  I can guess since the Games began and it was clear that there were two sets of district partners that would be unwilling to kill the other.   Nothing like trying to get the tributes to do what you want by blackmailing them in the arena.  

 

The history books mention that in one of the early Games, I think the Third Hunger Games,  the tributes tried refusing to kill each other and the Capitol retaliated by sending each protesting tribute a body part from one of their loved ones.   The books try to play up how benevolent the Capitol was in the face of such horrible and treasonous insurrection because none of the loved ones were killed only maimed.   But the message was clear, do what the Capitol wants or it's not just you who suffers but your family and friends as well. 

 

It's a sobering thought.  

 

The three finish and direct me to send my mother in next.   I nod, too tired and hungry to do much else.   Octavia hands me a soft black dress with a flame pattern around the hem.   I accept it gratefully and pull it on. 

 

My mother is waiting for me in the next room.  "There's food on the table if you're hungry," she says by way of greeting.   "Effie's waiting for you."

 

I wrinkle my nose.  "I'm pretty tired."  I don't want to talk to the District Twelve escort.

 

"You can sleep later.  This is important," my mother replies, before going into the room I just came out of.  I stare at the closed door for a few moments before turning back to the sitting room.

 

I can make out the poufy pink wig of the District Twelve escort on the far side of the room as well as the table laid out with a variety of foods.  Deliberately ignoring the woman my mother said was waiting for me, I walk over to the buffet and pick up a plate.  The surface is covered with fruits, breads and meats of all kinds.   More food than I've seen in my life and enough to feed my mother, Prim and I for a few months.   It's yet another clear display of power and control from the Capitol.   I pick up a plate and fill it up.   I might as well eat up while I can.  

 

From behind me, I hear the high heeled clack of Effie Trinket.  "Oh good, you're here!  I just had a lovely chat with your mother, she's really a lovely woman.   Much like your sister."

 

I make a non-committal sound and help myself to several cured meats.

 

"I want to go over a few things with you before we arrive in the Capitol.  Etiquette, protocol, manners, you know, things like that."

 

"Afraid I'm going to offend someone?" I ask drily, glancing over my shoulder to see Effie hovering behind me.

 

"Exactly," she says with a nod.  "It's important that you make the right kind of impression with potential sponsors.  It could mean life or death for your sister and boyfriend."

 

I about drop the plate I am carrying.  "Boyfriend?"

 

She purses her lips.  "No, I suppose that is too light of a term, all things considered."  She eyes my stomach pointedly.  "I don't suppose he's asked you yet."

 

"Asked me what?"

 

She shakes her head.   "No, of course he hasn't, probably never crossed his mind."

 

Setting my plate down on the table, I give the escort a hard look.  "Look, Ms. Trinket-"

 

"Effie," she interrupts.

 

"Effie.  I'm not like my mother or my sister.  If there's something you want to tell me, just say it."

 

She frowns.   "No, I can see you are nothing like your sister at all.  More's the pity." 

 

I'd take more offense if I didn't know she was right.  I'm nothing like Prim and I'm grateful my sister is nothing like me.  "So what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" I ask, sitting down and cutting up my food.

 

Effie follows my movements with her eyes before pouring herself a cup of coffee and liberally doctoring it with various things.  Sitting down across from me, she clears her throat and begins, "From the moment we arrive at the Capitol, you will be in the public eye.  Every act scrutinized, every word heard."

 

I nod.  She's not saying anything that I don't already know.

 

"Therefore it is imperative that you do your utmost to put your best face forward.   Cinna and his team will take care of your wardrobe, but that is not enough.   Caesar Flickerman will be interviewing all of the family members starting tomorrow morning.   Unfortunately due to Twelve's remoteness," she pauses to frown in annoyance, "we will be unable to secure the first interviews."

 

"And this is bad?"

 

"Of course, it's bad!  The more time between interviews the greater the chance that something will happen to sway the sponsors to supporting another district. Surely you've noticed that other than your gift to your sister we haven't had any other gifts."

 

I nod.  "I assumed that was because people don't like to support District Twelve."

 

"They don't," Effie says crisply.  "But this year we have a tribute who's actually a contender and managed to take out one of the frontrunners early on too, but then he had to ruin his chances by announcing publically that he wasn't planning on winning.  Naturally, no sponsor wants to support a loser."

 

"But why aren't they supporting Prim?" I ask.  "Peeta's announced he's protecting her.  That's got to count for something?"

 

"It would, if she could prove that she was not a liability and her healing Peeta doesn't count," she adds before I can protest. "Why even that girl from Eleven has a kill.  So far your sister hasn't even managed to kill a fly much less another tribute."

 

I press my lips together to keep from snapping at the woman.  I don't want my twelve year old little sister to lose her innocence like that even if it is pretty much unavoidable in the Games if you want to live.   "And you think that I can do something about this."  It isn't a question.

 

"We have an opportunity here with the rule change.  People will support Peeta, especially now that he's recovered mostly and Prim will no longer be seen as a long shot to win.   But we still have other obstacles and we could very well lose any sponsors to the team from Eleven unless we do something to make our team stand out.   That's where you come in."

 

"Me?"

 

"Yes, you're the string that binds the two together.   Prim's sister.  Peeta's love.  If anyone can convince the sponsors to open their wallets it's you."  She beams at me.  "Which is why it's ever so important that we make sure that everyone loves you.  So when you talk about Peeta and Prim they'll want to reunite your little family."

 

I can't keep the frown from my face.  I'm not comfortable with the thought of Peeta as a part of my family.  I owe him a debt, one that would be a lot easier to repay if he were alive, but still I'm not sure I want to fake being his girlfriend to get sponsors.   "I'll do my best," I say after a few more bites of food.  "I'm not as lovable as Prim is."

 

"That much is obvious," Effie sniffs.  "Still you do have one thing going for you."  She motions to my stomach.   "Do you know what you're having?"

 

I shake my head.  We don't have that kind of technology in Twelve.  

 

The escort sighs.  "Have you even seen a doctor yet?"

 

"No," I answer, shaking my head again.   "My mother's a healer and we can't afford to go to the doctor in town."

 

Giving me a look that I can only describe as exasperated, Effie stands up.  "Well, I know one phone call I will be making tonight.   You need to see a doctor and get all of the standard tests.   Why just looking at you, you're far too thin.  Have you been taking your vitamins?"  She doesn't let me answer.  "No, of course you haven't.  I shouldn't even bother asking.  I don't suppose you can walk in heels."

 

The non-sequitur startles me.  "No."

 

"Well, we can start there.  Finish up, we have a lot of ground to cover."

 

For the next two hours, Effie tries to teach me how to be an elegant Capitol lady.  She gives up on trying to get me to walk in heels as high as hers, settling on a two inch heel rather than four.  Even so, it's all I can do to not break my ankles.  She also tries to teach me how to make small talk and charm people.   It's a study in futility.  I am not charming and I know it.  About the best I can hope for is to not come across as sullen and surly.   Even my smiles are unsatisfactory to Effie's critical eye.   She makes me stand in front of a mirror and practice smiling for almost an hour of our time, all the while chattering on at me about the various ways to win sponsors.   The whole thing is exhausting.

 

When she finally releases me to go to bed, I stumble down the corridor of the train to the sleeping quarters.   Most of the rooms have been claimed by the Mellarks but there are still two compartments that are unclaimed.   I take the first one that's available and collapse on the bed fully clothed. 

 

I lay there for I don't know how long waiting for the exhaustion I feel to take me off to sleep.  Except it doesn't.   My body is tired but my mind is racing.   I am apprehensive about what the Capitol has in store.   I'm also worried about Prim.  What Effie says about her not getting sponsors repeats over and over in my head.   It's true that she's not a killer and it shows and despite her winning personality it's not enough to get over that obstacle.   Prim might be able to outlast the competition if she has help but she can't outfight them so she won't get that help.   It's the perfect no-win situation. 

 

I roll over and get up.   If I can't sleep, I might as well watch the Games.   I glance at the clock on the bedside table and note that it's after one in the morning.   At this time of night, most of what they show is recaps of the day's events with a real-time inset of the surviving tributes sleeping.  Only if there is something exciting going on will they stop the recaps.  

 

I tiptoe through the train until I find a room with a television.   I turn it on and turn down the volume so that I don't wake anyone up.   Like I thought, it's showing recaps of the day.  I turn away when they show Tacoma's death, I don't need to watch the girl be mauled by mutts again.   But after the announcement, they show the various tributes' reactions. 

 

Cato and Clove are ecstatic, understandably.   The large boy pulls the smaller girl into his arms and kisses her enthusiastically.   The reporter, a young woman with silver streaked spiked hair, talks exuberantly about how sweet it is that two lovers now have the chance to go home.   I admit that in about any other year, I would feel sympathy for them.  But not this year.   When they separate, Cato lifts his head and yells out a big "Thank you!" to the cameras.  It's clear that he feels that the Capitol is rooting for them, and they likely are.

 

Behind the two lovers, Glimmer and Marvel have wildly differing reactions.   Marvel suddenly perks up.  He now has a chance of winning despite his injuries.   While Glimmer looks annoyed.   It's clear she isn't fond of her district partner, but she knows that with this announcement she's now expected to work as a team.   It's also clear from the way she's stroking her bow that she's debating attacking the two from District Two and killing them while they are distracted.  But she doesn't.  The reporter theorizes it's because of the bond that they've formed.   Personally, I think it's more likely that it's because Thresh and Peeta are still at large.  

 

The cameras show Thresh and Rue next.   The boy and girl from Eleven both act relieved at the announcement.  They're both still making their way back to the camp by the stream but since it's getting late and they only have one set of night vision goggles, they decide to make camp under the trunk of a fallen tree.   As they curl up against each other for warmth, Thresh confesses that he's glad that he doesn't have to kill Rue and that they can both go home to their families.   Rue just nods and pats the large boy's arm in understanding. 

 

Back at the cave, Prim is overjoyed and positively bouncing with glee.   Peeta's reaction is more subdued, almost wary.  He's happy and for the first time I can see hope in his eyes that he'll survive.   But it's not the effusive happiness that the other pairs have shown.   The reporters comment that he's likely still woozy from his burns but I don't think that's it at all.  I know that if I were in his place, I'd think it was too good to be true.   The Gamemakers aren't kind and I can tell that he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

 

Then the reporter shows the reactions of the three tributes who do not have a district partner.   Axel is first and his reaction is odd to say the least.   He doesn't look upset or annoyed, but gets a little smile on his face.  He quickly wiped\s it off and goes to the supply pile to get a can of soup winding his way through the mines in an odd hopping dance.  It might be my imagination, but the dance looks different than the previous time I'd seen Rani do it.

 

Speaking of Rani, they show her reaction next.   It isn't much of one.  If anything, she just looks sad for a few moments before continuing her patrol of the area.  

 

Finally they show Clint, from District Ten.  His is the reaction that I'd expected to see.   Anger.   The lame boy is angry.   Angry that his partner is dead.  Angry that he now has double the competition since the district partnerships will hold and he'll be effectively fighting two against one.   Clint is pissed.   And I can't blame him, if I were in his shoes, I would be too.  

 

The screen stops showing the recaps and I wonder at the reason why.   The grey green of the night vision cameras focuses in on Rani from Five.  The girl is still sitting watch outside the cave and I can see her scrub at her eyes every so often.   She's been crying,  probably because of the announcement.   Through the speakers, I can hear the unmistakable tinkling sound of a sponsorship parachute being dropped. 

 

Rani hears it too and she gets to her feet and starts looking around for it.   The silvery grey material reflects dimly in the moonlight and the girl makes her way towards it.  The container it suspends is small, fitting in the girl's hands comfortably.   Deactivating the beacon, she moves away from the cave to get a better look at what she's been sent.   When she opens the container she lets out a little gasp and then closes it back up again quickly.   I don't get a good look at the contents but from what I can make out they look like berries.   Dark, shiny, round berries.  Then, it hits me and I feel my stomach clench.  

 

Nightlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written 6/9/13  
> Revised 7/31/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> None!
> 
> Up Next: Katniss arrives at the Capitol and an alliance is betrayed.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

 

There is no way I am going to be able to sleep, not when Rani has the means to kill my sister.   I immediately come to the conclusion that she's had this planned from the beginning, get close to several of the tributes then kill them off surreptitiously using the nightlock berries.  

 

Nightlock is another of those horrible muttations that the Capitol uses to keep the districts penned in and under control.  They look like blueberries only with the dusty coating rubbed off.   The plant they grow on is similar to the blueberry bush as well so unless you've been trained to tell the difference between the two, it's easy to poison yourself and anyone else you share the berries with.  

 

I'd been teaching Prim how to identify edible plants, but I'd never shown her nightlock before.   Which is my and Gale's fault, all of the nightlock plants that we find, we uproot so there's no chance of us or anyone else finding the berries and eating them.   No one knows what they taste like either, since the berries kill so quickly.  My father always used to say that they'd kill you as soon as the poison hit your stomach.  Now, that same poison is in the hands of someone with a vested interest in my sister's death.  

 

I tune out the excited babbling of the commentators and watch Rani intently to try to figure out what she is planning.   The girl didn't look happy with her gift, I recall, if anything she looked shocked.   The shock has faded from her features, but the unhappiness remains.   That gives me hope. 

 

The girl walks back to the cave, secreting the small container into one of her pockets.   She takes one more look around to make sure the coast is clear and enters the small opening.   There, she walks over to Prim and shakes her awake.  

 

"Get up, sleepyhead.  It's time for your watch." 

 

Prim rolls over and blinks up at the foxfaced girl.   "Any sign of Rue or Thresh?"

 

Rani shakes her head.  "No, but they weren't in the recap shown tonight.  Tacoma was though."

 

Nodding her head, Prim gets up.  "I'm glad we didn't have to go up against her.  She was really good with her axe."

 

"Yeah, well apparently not good enough.   Someone or something got her and we don't want it to get us so get to watching.  I want to get some sleep."

 

"Thanks, Rani!" Prim says, giving the girl a quick hug.  "I don't know what Peeta and I would do without you.  I wish..." she trails off.

 

"I know, squirt, I wish the same thing too.  The Games suck."

 

"You shouldn't say that!" Prim chides.  "You don't want to make people mad."

 

"Let 'em get mad.   I'm mad.   I finally make some friends and the Capitol expects me to kill them.  It's all kinds of messed up."

 

Prim looks away.  "Are you sorry you're my friend?"

 

Rani gives her another hug.  "No, I'm not sorry.   I'm just sorry that we both can't go home."  The girl then flops down and pulls a blanket up over herself.  "But there's nothing I can do about it.  So I'm not going to worry about that right now.  And don't you worry about it, squirt.  Things'll work out.  You'll see.  Now get!"

 

Prim gets.    

 

I want to scream at my sister not to trust the girl from Five.  That Rani is going to betray them.   But I know Prim can't hear me and that screaming at the television doesn't help, no matter what some people say.  

 

I lay down on the couch and watch my sister set up her observation post.  Unlike Rani, she doesn't walk around patrolling but instead finds a tree with a good line of sight on the clearing.  Then she pulls out one of Clove's pilfered throwing knives and waits and watches.

 

There must not be anything else going on because the action switches back to recaps.  I turn down the volume but don't get up.  I can't.   Prim is in danger and I can't leave her.  I know it's just superstitious but I feel so long as I'm watching over her, she'll make it through.  

 

I let myself drift off to the muffled sounds of the Games and the gentle swaying of the train.  

 

**oOo**

 

The sensation of someone's fingers gently stroking my hair drags me back up into consciousness.   I blink at the warm dawn light and look up to see that my mother has joined me.  

 

"The girl from Five has nightlock," I say by way of greeting.

 

"I know," she answers.  "They've shown that part and even promised to have a scientist come in and explain the significance of the gift a little later in the morning."

 

"I don't need someone to explain it," I mutter darkly.

 

"The people in the Capitol aren't as knowledgeable as you.  I bet there are some people watching who are wondering why Uranium isn't eating her gift."

 

"I wish she'd eat them," I say under my breath. "It'd save me the trouble of killing her if she gives them to Prim."

 

My mother doesn't respond, but continues stroking my hair like she used to when I was young.   I let myself revel in the sensation before getting up to use the toilet.  

 

I take care of my morning needs and wander back to the room I'd claimed as my own to get a fresh set of clothing.   We'd be arriving in the Capitol later this morning and Effie's words about getting the sponsors to love me and thus Prim and Peeta rings in my ears.   They aren't going to love me if I show up looking tired and disheveled, even if that is how I feel.   Pulling on a simple green shirt and black pants, I figure this is as good as I'm going to get without professional help.

 

When I return to the viewing room. I see that Effie is already there as well as Mr. Mellark and Venia from the prep team.   Venia looks up when I enter and immediately pulls a comb and a few hairpins out of the little apron around her waist.   Apparently, I'm not quite good enough but she's going to make sure I make a statement.  

 

As she's doing my hair, Effie gives everyone their schedules.   The Mellarks and my mother are to go to the Makeover Center to meet with the stylists and get any last minute alterations.  Me, I'm going to be taken to the Medical Center to have a check-up.   Cinna will meet me there later, after he finishes with my mother, to go over my outfit for the interview.   Effie says that Haymitch has managed to swing the last interviews for us with me being the final interviewee.  

 

I raise an eyebrow and ask, "Don't we want to go early?"

 

Effie shakes her head.  "We wanted to go first," she corrects.  "But since we can't, we want to go last.  Make a final impression and overshadow anyone else who's gone ahead.   Being in the middle is useless, no one remembers you unless you do something incredibly stupid and we don't want incredibly stupid."  She gives me a pointed look.

 

"I'll remember that," I reply drily. 

 

"See that you do!  Now, I've made arrangements for food to be brought here so that we can watch the first interviews."

 

"Who got the first spot?" my mother wants to know.

 

A strange expression crosses Effie's face.  "District One.  I should have remembered that one of the interviewees was in the Capitol for the Games."

 

"Which one?" Mr. Mellark asks, but I already know the answer.   Glimmer's father, Striker Diamante, is a former victor.   Naturally he'd be in the Capitol for the Games.  

 

Effie confirms my knowledge and adds, "He's the ranking male mentor of the District One contingent since Auric Luxor died during the Fifty Sixth Games."

 

Frowning at that detail, I struggle to remember who Auric Luxor was.  He died before I was born but something about the way Effie says his name tells me that he's important.   But I can't for the life of me figure out why.

 

I don't get any time to ponder the escort's words because the action on the television changes from recaps to the Career Camp.  

 

In the early morning light, I can see that Axel from Three is awake and standing near the camp with a spear held awkwardly in his hands.   I wonder what's put him on high alert when I hear it.  The unmistakable sound of something crashing through the undergrowth.  It is possible that the Gamemakers, annoyed at the lack of action, have set one of their muttations on the boy.  But they typically save shows like that for better viewing hours and after Caesar and Claudius have taken over in the afternoon.   Still, the crashing gets louder and louder and Axel is getting more and more nervous.

 

When the threat finally appears, I can see Axel's reaction clearly.   Shock.  Relief.  Then wariness.

 

It's the Careers.  

 

Axel carefully sets the spear down and picks up a small box and slips it into his pocket before calling out a greeting, "Welcome back!"

 

"Anything happen?" Clove asks curtly.

 

The boy from Three shakes his head. 

 

'Figures," Cato grumbles.   "I'm never going to get a decent kill count if things keep going the way they are."

 

"There, there," the girl from Two soothes.  "There's still nine people we have to kill, then we can go home."

 

Glimmer clears her throat.  "Um, hello?  Three of those people are standing right here and unless my math is wrong we outnumber you."

 

"Marvel and Three?  You're joking right?"  Cato scoffs.

 

Marvel takes a step forward and shifts his grip on his spear into a more aggressive stance.  "Don't count me out.  I can still take you out."

 

Clove snorts.

 

"Okay, all of you, stop it!" Glimmer interjects.  It's clear that despite her annoyance with her allies that she's still not willing to let the group break down into chaos.  "Unless you want to end this alliance right now, I suggest we all calm down and take a breather.  All in favor of ending the alliance now while Eleven and Twelve are still out there and at full strength say so now."

 

No one says anything.

 

"I didn't think so," Glimmer says with a smirk.

 

Cato grumbles a little under his breath but seems to get the point.   "I'm hungry," he announces.  "Get me some food, Three!"

 

"Get it yourself, Two," Axel counters.  "I'm tired and going to go sleep."  He looks around at the faces of the four Careers.  "Somewhere other than with you."

 

"You leaving the alliance, Three?" Clove asks, fingering one of her knives.

 

Axel shakes his head.  "Please, you think I'd be stupid enough to announce that now?  No, I just don't feel like sleeping with the four of you while you're feeling bloodthirsty.  One of you might cut my throat while I'm asleep."

 

Marvel has the decency to look chagrinned.  It's clear that he was thinking of doing just that.   Rolling her eyes at her district partner, Glimmer gives Axel an understanding glance.

 

The tribute from Three grabs his bedroll and walks away from the Careers in the opposite direction from the supply pile.   He gets to about 20 feet from the edge of the forest and tosses the bedroll down.   The Careers watch him warily to make sure he doesn't bolt.  But when he slips into the sleeping bag, they seem to relax and go about their day.  

 

Glimmer and Marvel thread their way through the mines to the supply pile and start to rummage around in it.    While behind them, Cato and Clove make a trek down to the lake to get water.  

 

A hint of motion catches my and the camera's attention:  Axel is wriggling in his bedroll.   He pulls the small box out and up to his face and opens it.   Inside is an odd device with various wires trailing off of it.   He extends two of the wires toward the supply pile and then flips a switch.  

 

From across the clearing, a series of explosions take place starting near the supplies then near the camp.   For a moment, I'm confused.   Then I remember.   The mines.   The device Axel is using is setting off the mines.  

 

Marvel is the first to fall when one of the wooden boxes explodes near him.  His body is riddled with shrapnel and splintered wood, taking out his other eye.  He collapses to the ground, dead.

 

Glimmer tries to run as soon as the first detonation takes place.   However in the confusion she steps on a buried mine.  The resulting explosion reduces the girl's body to a fine red mist.   Beside me, I hear Effie gasp in horror.   It is a horrible death. 

 

But it's not over.   All over the clearing, mines are exploding.  They take out the camp and supply pile along with Marvel's body.   Down by the lake, a mine goes off about twenty feet away from where Cato and Clove are getting water.   The shockwave knocks the two Careers off of their feet.  Clove is thrown into the water and Cato is hurled down the edge of the beach.  

 

He recovers first and immediately looks for Clove.   She's struggling to her feet, blood streaming down her face from where the shrapnel nicked her scalp.    He sees her and shouts, "Clove!" and starts making his way toward her.  His face is agonized seeing her injury.

 

"I'm fine!" she replies, pushing her hair out of her face.  "Get Three!"

 

Cato looks conflicted but nods once.  He turns to survey the clearing, his eyes changing from concerned to calculating, and searches for his prey.  

 

While the explosions have been going off, Axel has been struggling to get out of his bedroll quickly.   He's hampered because his zipper's gotten stuck so he's wriggling out of the sleeping bag.   He manages to get free and stands up to take stock of the situation.   He smiles when he doesn't see any of the Careers.  He turns around to pick up the bedroll and that's a mistake.

 

Back at the lake, Cato spots the boy from Three and surges out of the water.  He angles around the ruined remains of their camp and sprints toward the other tribute.   As he nears, he lets out an animal yell and launches himself at Axel.  

 

The boy from Three manages to turn partway around before he's tackled to the ground by the raging tribute from Two.   Cato rolls Axel over the rest of the way and punches him in the face.  "You piece of meat!" he growls out, striking the boy again.   "You hurt Clove!"

 

Axel struggles underneath the Career, trying to buck him off.   His legs kick up futilely trying to dislodge Cato.  

 

Cato ignores him and continues hitting the boy in the face.   "I'm going to make you suffer, you piece of dog crap.  You're going to hurt and then you're going to die."

 

Giving up trying to kick Cato off, Axel reaches into one of his pockets with his left hand while the right comes up to protect his face.  Cato just bats the hand away and wraps his hands around Axel's neck and starts squeezing.  The boy from Three struggles for air, but manages to pull his left hand out of his pocket.  In it is a small dagger and he thrusts it into Cato weakly.  

 

Rearing back in pain, Cato releases his hold on Axel.   The boy from Three yanks the dagger out and plunges it into Cato's thigh.   The Career howls and rolls off of the smaller tribute clutching at the dagger.  

 

Now free, Axel struggles to his feet and starts to run away.  He's not running very fast because of his injuries and it looks like he might have sprained an ankle from Cato's initial tackle.   As for the Career, he stands up, leaving the dagger in his leg and gets his bearings.  He spots the fleeing tribute and lumbers after him.  

 

I find myself torn in who I want to win.   I know that it'd be better if Cato kills Axel since that means that there's one less tribute between Prim and winning.   But I kind of want Axel to get away.  He deserves it since he's managed to take out two Careers and injure the other two.  

 

Axel is almost at the edge of the clearing when he makes his final mistake and glances behind him to see where Cato is.    He doesn't see where he's planting his feet and steps down on a triangular stone.  His injured ankle gives out and he falls to the ground. Hard.   I hear the unmistakable sound of a bone breaking but that's not the worst of it.  

 

Cato catches up to him and bends down.   He seizes the boy from Three's head in his hands and twists it violently to the right.   The sound of Axel's neck snapping echoes all through the clearing and a cannon goes off.  

 

The Career stands back up straight and looks around to find Clove.  She's out of the water and heading toward him.   She's got cuts along one side of her body from shrapnel kicked up by the mines but she's not too badly injured.  

 

Cato on the other hand is.   The knife in his thigh isn't close to his femoral artery, but it is lodged in deep.    The rush of the kill over, the strength in Cato's body seems to leave him and he stumbles away from Axel's body and collapses to the ground.  

 

Clove gives a shout and breaks into a run, carefully skirting the edge of the clearing to avoid any unexploded mines.  She reaches his side and drops to her knees.  "Cato..."

 

"It's not bad," he manages to gasp out.

 

"That's a load of crap," Clove shoots back, her hands checking his vitals.   "I'm going to have to take it out and sew you up.  I don't know with what though."  She looks up and surveys the remains of the supply pile and camp.  "Everything's gone."

 

Cato shakes his head.  "Three would have had a stash somewhere."

 

"You're right.  He wouldn't have blown everything up without having a hidey hole somewhere outside the blast zone."  She drops a kiss onto his forehead.  "That's what I love about you, you have brains as well as brawn."

 

"And I'm good-looking too," he adds, trying to smile but only managing a grimace.

 

"And so very modest."  Clove gets up.   "I don't think you're going to die but you need to stay awake.   I'm going to strip Three of anything useful and then move what's left of him away so that they can come get the body."

 

The boy nods.

 

"Then, I'm going to look for his stash.  It's probably just beyond the treeline somewhere.  I hope there's a first-aid kit."

 

Cato nods again.  "Do you have something I can bite on?  Some dried meat, maybe?"

 

Clove shakes her head.  "I'm out.  I didn't have anything left when we got back to camp and I didn't grab anything before going to get water with you.  Sorry."

 

"It's okay."

 

The girl walks over to Axel's body and makes quick work of stripping it of anything useful.  Even his clothes and shoes are taken.   Then she drags the underwear clad corpse over to a copse of trees at the edge of the clearing.   She takes her booty along with Axel's abandoned sleeping bag back to where her love is lying and uses them to elevate Cato's leg.  After making sure he isn't going bleed out, she starts her search.

 

I'm brought from the action by Effie standing up and brushing the wrinkles out of her clothes.  "My!  Now that was exciting!"  She pauses, looking at the clock.  "And fortuitous."

 

"How so?" Mr. Mellark adds.

 

The escort looks at him.  "Why because that means that the first interview has opened back up!  Poor Striker, though.  But good for us!"

 

"How long until we reach the Capitol?" my mother wants to know.

 

"A few hours at the most.   Enough time to get cleaned up and fed and enough time for me to see if I can make arrangements with Caesar's office to bump us back up.  Now, if you'll excuse me I've got so so much to do before we arrive."  Effie walks briskly out of the compartment and down the hallway toward the front of the train.  

 

Meanwhile my mother and Mr. Mellark are standing up and turning off the television.   I want to protest but all of a sudden I'm starving.   A servant arrives to show us to the dining car where the rest of our party is eating.   Peeta's brothers Bing and Farl both have heaping plates of food and are gorging themselves on bacon and sausage.  Meanwhile, Mrs. Mellark has a smaller plate but on it are delicacies that we rarely see in Twelve: fresh citrus, fish eggs on toast, chocolate covered fruit and an assortment of cheeses.  

 

I grab a plate and load up on fruit and bacon making a wide berth around anything fishy or dairy, both sound nauseating.  My mother gives me a large cup of tea with honey and milk in it and I accept it gratefully.  

 

After breakfast, I try to return to the viewing room but pause as something catches my eye outside of the window.   I cross to it and look out and catch my breath.  The Capitol is approaching. 

 

The city glitters and shines against the backdrop of a great mountain lake.   I can just make out the spires of the buildings I've seen on television when everything outside goes black.   We've entered a tunnel. 

 

Realizing just how close we are, I decide to forgo going back to watch the Games and head back to the dining car where I left my mother.  But before I make it five feet a cheerful voice stops me.

 

"Katniss!  Just the person I wanted to see!"

 

I turn around.  "Hello, Effie," I say.

 

She minces down the hallway and clasps my shoulder, I want to smack it away but manage not to.  "I've got such big, big, big news!   Big news!"

 

"Shouldn't you be telling this to everyone?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Oh my, yes!  What a thoughtful girl and so efficient.   You're a woman after my own heart!"

 

"Thanks."

 

We walk back to the dining car and as soon as we enter Effie raises her hands over her head and claps them together in a rapid staccato.   "Everyone, can I have your attention, please?" she calls out then claps her hands again.

 

The room turns to look at her.

 

Beaming at us, she says, "I have the most marvelous news!   I have managed to score us a coup, a veritable coup!"  She's bouncing in on the balls of her feet.   "I have managed to get us the first and last interviews with Caesar Flickerman.  Isn't that wonderful?"

 

The room looks at her with varying expressions of confusion on their face.  I know from earlier why this is important, but it's clear the rest of the room doesn't.   "That's great, Effie," I say, "But how did you manage to pull this off?"

 

"It's all thanks to you, Katniss!" the escort gushes.   "I've talked with Caesar himself and he agrees with me that you should definitely see a doctor first and he wanted me to move the whole contingent's interviews to the end because of this.  But since there's no one to take District One's interview time, I suggested we just take that too since we've got so many of you and he agreed!"

 

"That's all well and good, but when can we go home?" Mrs. Mellark wants to know.

 

Effie frowns.  "Well, don't you want to stay and see Peeta win?"

 

The woman snorts.   "He's not going to win.  He's going to sacrifice himself for her!  So she can be happy!"  She jerks her chin in my direction.

 

"But the rule change-" Effie protests.

 

"What good's the rule change when her sister is useless?  He's going to get killed trying to protect her and she's going to die weeping over his corpse!"

 

"Now Muffy-" Mr. Mellark tries to calm her down.

 

She whirls on her husband.  "This is your fault!  Letting him be soft, letting him pine after that piece of Seam whore trash!"

 

My mother's hand flashes out and smacks Mrs. Mellark across the mouth.  "I will not have you say such things about my daughter!"

 

"Like mother like daughter," Mrs. Mellark sneers.  "Both a pair of sluts-"

 

She doesn't get to finish her insult as my mother slaps her again.  

 

Mrs. Mellark lets out a high pitched screech and lunges forward with her hands outstretched to attack my mother.  She doesn't get far.   Mr. Mellark throws himself between his wife and my mother while his oldest son, Bing, comes up behind her to wrap an arm around the seething woman.

 

"Muffy, calm down.  Violet's just standing up for her children like any good mother would do."

 

She glares at him, her eyes narrowing.   "You've always taken her side, Matz.  Even after she rejected you all those years ago, you're still carrying a flame for her." She spits in his face.  "Pathetic!"

 

"Mother..." Bing tries.  

 

Mr. Mellark interrupts him.  "I think that you need to calm down, Muffy.   It's one thing to lash out in private, in public I'm going to have to put my foot down."

 

"Put your foot down?  That's rich coming from you!"

 

"Still, I'm going to have to do it.  You can yell at me all you want when we get home.  But while we're in the Capitol, you're going to behave yourself.  You're going to talk about our youngest son with some affection and you're going to keep our private life private."  His voice is hard and he shakes her slightly to punctuate his seriousness.  

 

She glares at him for one long moment, trying to get him to stand down, but he doesn't.   Finally she gives a crisp nod.  "Fine!  However I have a demand of my own.   I do not want to have anything to do with them!" She glares at my mother and then me with hate clear in her eyes.  

 

"That's fine with me," my mother crosses over to me to put her arm around me. 

 

"Oh my," Effie breathes.  "What drama!  It's like a television show!  I'll have to make a few changes to the itinerary to accommodate this arrangement but it's doable."

 

Behind her, the light returns outside the windows and I feel the train begin to slow.  We've arrived in the Capitol.  Outside the train, I can hear crowds cheering and the sound of the Hunger Games being broadcast on screens all over the city. 

 

Farl sits up in his chair and looks out the window.  "Whoa... there's so many of them..." he breathes.   Bing, Mrs. Mellark, and Mr. Mellark all go to the window to get a glimpse of the Capitol.

 

Effie claps her hands.  "Now that this is all settled; smiles on!  Chins up!   Let's get this show on the road!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written 6/16/13  
> Revised 8/2/13
> 
> Beta read by RoseFyre.
> 
> I've always wondered why the District Three Male Tribute teamed up with the Careers. Sure he could booby trap the supplies and keep them safe, but why did he stick around when they left camp or why didn't the Careers kill him. This chapter was my answer. I always felt that the District Three Male Tribute had a HUGE advantage and should have used it to take out most if not all of the Careers. Yes, he had his neck snapped as before, but this time he's managed to get a few licks in and thin the field. As a side note, I'm going to miss Glimmer. She's really grown on me as I've been writing this. She was fun to write and she added some much needed common sense to the Career Pack. 
> 
> Now we get to the Capitol. From the books, we know that it is someplace in the Rocky Mountains and from the movie we can see it is situated on a large lake. We also know from Mockingjay that the Capitol is COMPLETELY surrounded by mountains. It's that last fact that takes Denver or any of the other major cities that have been proposed as locations for the Capitol right out. Denver for all that it is called the mile-high city, is built on the plains. Seriously, I know, I grew up there. There are mountains to the west, but to the south, north and east it's flat. The same is true with Boulder, Colorado Springs, and Cheyenne. Salt Lake City has mountains to the east and north but not to the south or west. I also have a degree in natural disasters (no, really I do) and no matter what kind of cataclysm took place to raise sea levels there is no way that we can get mountains to the east of Denver by any of the known mountain building events. 
> 
> So based on that, I'm writing that the Capitol is near the Great Divide and near the Eisenhower tunnel. The biggest city in that area on a lake is Dillon, Colorado. Google it. That's where I'm placing the Capitol. It's also an area I know fairly well. My family used to go camping and hiking up there and skiing in the nearby Breckenridge, Keystone, and Vail areas. 
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> Glimmer - District One - Blown up by Axel with mines  
> Marvel - District One - Blown up by Axel with mines  
> Axel - District Three - Neck snapped by Cato
> 
>  
> 
> Up Next: Katniss' doctor's visit and an unexpected meeting.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

 

There are two limousines waiting at the platform for us when we get off.  Effie herds the Mellarks and my mother toward one while motioning for me to go in the other. 

 

My mother shakes her head and tries to join me.  "I'm staying with my daughter," she states adamantly.  There's a bit of a panicked look in her eyes, like she's afraid to let me out of her sight. 

 

  
Effie huffs and moves to block my mother's path.  "Katniss will be fine.  You'll see Katniss after her appointment.   We need to get you to the Training Center and the interviews.  Besides, I've made arrangements for her to be well taken care of."  She makes a motion with one arm. 

 

I glance over at the limousine that Effie had indicated and note that unlike the one the Mellarks are getting into, mine has a pair of Peacekeepers waiting beside it.   Now my heart begins to race and I fight the instinct to run away.   I know that would be the worst possible idea and so I stop myself from bolting but I'm still nervous.  

 

One of the Peacekeepers notices me and gives me a small smile and bends down to hold the limo door open.    I steel myself and try to walk with confidence to the waiting vehicle.  I'm not sure if I succeed.

 

Getting inside, I sink down into the soft upholstery monogrammed with the symbol of Panem.    The door shuts behind me and I hear the two Peacekeepers get in the front of the vehicle.  

 

Thankful that they didn't join me, I survey my surroundings.   The back of the limousine is well apportioned with four soft couches.  At the end of each couch is a container of dark, polished wood.  I open the one closest to me and find that it holds a few carafes of brightly colored liquid and several small tumblers.   Checking the other boxes reveals more of the same.   I decide against trying anything since I don't know what any of the liquids are and with my luck they'd be poisoned.  

 

The windows of the limousine are tinted but I can still see out of them.   I spend the rest of the drive watching the Capitol go by, trying to figure out where I am and where we are going based on what little I know of Capitol geography.   They deliberately don't teach geography in school because the Capitol doesn't want the districts to be able to rise up again.  What we do know is gleaned from various newscasts and oral history.  Like I know that District Twelve is the district that is closest to the ruined District Thirteen and the district is someplace to the northeast of Twelve.  But how far and what obstacles are between Twelve and Thirteen I don't know.   No one I know does.  

 

As we drive, I become aware of just how maze-like the Capitol is laid out.   The streets we cross often dead end into large cul-de-sacs and open air markets or parks.   The limo itself makes several turns and if I didn't have a strong sense of direction from hunting most of my life, I would be completely turned around.   As it is, I'm still not quite sure where we are when we finally stop.  

 

The same Peacekeeper as before opens the door for me and I get out.   I'm standing in front of a fairly nondescript concrete building.   I don't have a lot of time to take stock before a green clad woman comes up to me and ushers me inside.  

 

When we enter, I realize that we're in some kind of medical center.   The woman leads me first to a bathroom where she instructs me to pee into a cup.  I give her a look like she's insane, but do what she asks.   When I'm done, she leads me into a small room with lots of machines and has me get dressed in a loose smock.   She then has another woman dressed in green come in to take several vials of my blood.  I look away while she does this and notice that there's a television on in the room showing the Games.

 

There's no volume, but there is some kind of subtitle although the words on the screen aren't matching up to what the person is saying.   The subtitling is likely being done in real time, then.  

 

On the screen is one of the morning commentators performing an exit interview with Striker Diamante, Glimmer's father and mentor.   The commentator is clearly trying to be upbeat and praise Striker for coaching his daughter as far as he did but I can see the underlying emotions on the older man's face.   He clearly doesn't want to be there and with every question, every inane comment from the interviewer I can see him getting more and more distraught.  

 

Finally the interviewer asks a question that's even callous by Capitol standards.  "So what did you feel when you saw your daughter vaporized on television?" the caption reads.  

 

Striker's face twitches and I can see his jaw clench.  For several seconds he doesn't say anything and the reporter repeats her question.   The victor from One gives the woman a glare that spells pain and says, "You want to know what I felt?  I'll show you what I felt!"  He then stands up and punches the woman in the chest, hard.  

 

The woman falls backwards out of her chair and three Peacekeepers run up onto the stage.  I can see Striker being detained when the feed abruptly changes to the Games themselves.  There isn't much going on, only Thresh and Rue are in motion and they're just walking back toward the alliance campsite.   Clearly, they had the exit interviews planned for before the family and friends interviews with Caesar Flickerman and because of Striker's outburst they're having to show slow time in the Games to cover.

 

I can't blame Striker for lashing out like he did.  The reporter was callous and cruel and completely oblivious to his pain.   Much like the Capitol is with the districts, I think to myself grimly.  

 

The door opens to the room I'm in and another woman comes in, this one wearing a white coat.   She instructs me to lay back and pokes and prods my abdomen.   She asks me a few questions:  When was my last period?  Do I know when I conceived?  How much do I eat?  What color is my pee?  Have I had any spotting?  When was the last time I saw a doctor?  Things like that.   She makes little clucking sounds of disapproval at my answers.  I'm not sure what kinds of answers she is looking for, but clearly the ones I give aren't it.  

 

The rest of the exam is very uncomfortable and invasive and I find myself wishing that my mother had come with me.   The doctor tries to be soothing, explaining what she is doing and why, but I'm still very uncomfortable and embarrassed with the whole thing. 

 

After several minutes both she and the other nurses leave to make arrangements for me to have some other kinds of tests.  I'm not really sure what kinds but the doctor insists they are necessary.  I can't understand why they'd be necessary, people have been having babies long before these tests were invented and we certainly don't have such medicine in District Twelve.  We barely have power in District Twelve.  

 

I get dressed and turn my attention back to the Games, wondering how to turn up the volume on the television in the room.   I don't see any buttons or dials on the screen and it's too high up for me to reach anyway, so I resign myself to watching them with subtitles.  

 

I don't really need the sound in any case since I can figure out what is happening without it.   Rue and Thresh are getting closer to the cave where Rani, Peeta, and Prim are.   I can see without the subtitle telling me that Rue is whistling her four note theme to announce that she's returning.  

  
The camera cuts to Prim and her reaction to hearing the tune.  She turns around and calls to Peeta and Rani excitedly.   The older two tributes emerge from the cave a little warily.  Rani seems to be nervous and keeps her hands in her pockets, while Peeta is holding a knife in his right hand.  

 

Rue and Thresh emerge from the brush on the far side of the stream and the wariness that both of the older tributes expressed eases greatly but not entirely.   This is still the Hunger Games and no alliance has lasted until the end of the Games unbroken.  

 

The door opens and I look away from the screen to get a shock at who comes through.  

 

It's Haymitch Abernathy.

 

"Morning, sweetheart, bet you weren't expecting me," he greets me with a cocky grin on his face.  

 

"What are you doing here?" I hiss.   "Aren't you supposed to be back at the Training Center mentoring my sister or whatever it is that you do?"

 

"Finn and Mags are keeping an eye on them for me," he answers.  "I needed to talk to you about your interview."

 

"What about it?" I ask warily, crossing my arms across my chest.

 

"Now, see, that's wrong."

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"Your tone of voice," he says, pulling out a metal flask and lifting it to his lips.  "It's coming across hostile and sullen.   Not good for winning Capitol crowds."

 

My eyes narrow at his words.  "And I suppose you know what wins Capitol crowds."

 

"I'm here, ain't I?"

 

"I'm sure it's a fluke," I snort derisively. 

 

He shakes his head.  "You're missing the point.  I'm here, now, with you.  I've finally got a set of tributes that stands a chance and it takes every bit of pull and prodding me and a the other mentors got to have them make the rule change and I ain't gonna have you botch it up 'cause you're feeling ornery.  They got to like you, Katniss.  They have to know why Prim, who they all love despite her unwillingness to kill, sacrificed herself for you.   They have to know why Peeta, who is about the strongest tribute in the Games this year, is willing to lay down his life so your sister can come home to you.  Prim and Peeta have made you desirable, sweetheart, and the Capitol cash cows need to know that by backing the two from Twelve that they're going to get what they want."

 

"And what do they want?" I ask warily.

 

"A fairy tale ending."

 

I'm confused as to what he means and I know it shows on my face.  

 

"They want to know that if Peeta and Prim come out of the Arena that you three are all going to live happily ever after."

 

I'm still confused.   Why wouldn't we be happy?   If Prim makes it out, she'd be a Victor and we'd be set up in one of the houses in the Victor's Village.  And more importantly, we wouldn't have to worry about food ever again.   But I don't think that it's what the Capitol's looking for and I know it's not what Haymitch is looking for.  "What do you want me to do?" I ask bluntly.

 

"I don't know, try to pretend you feel something for the boy.  That he means something to you, that you want him to live."

 

"I don't want him to die," I say.   "Isn't that enough?"

 

"Not for the Capitol.   They want the love story and if that means you have to lie, then you're going to do it, sweetheart."

 

I frown.  I'm not sure I can feign affection for someone I barely know.   "I can try," I offer after several moments.  

 

Haymitch shrugs.  "I suppose that's the best I can ask for.  That brings me to the other reason I wanted to talk to you.  I need to let the kids know their families are here without tipping off the Capitol that's what I'm doing."

 

"Why?"

 

"So that Peeta doesn't do or say something stupid," Haymitch says bluntly.  "Your boy's got a moral streak a mile wide and it's going to get him into trouble.  He's already being accused of stirring up trouble."  There's something in the man's voice that sounds like pride.   "We want him to make it home safe and sound, not end up dead in the Arena because he pissed off the wrong people.   Like that girl from Seven did."

 

The memory of Tacoma's death surfaces and I nod numbly.   No, I don't want to watch Peeta be eaten alive by mutts or killed by some other Gamemaker contrivance.   But what to send that won't raise suspicion?  That's the question.   I think about it for several moments.  A loaf of partially burnt bread?   No.   I'm likely going to have to tell the story during my interview about how Peeta saved my life, so that's out.   Sending a loaf of that same bread isn't obvious enough.  It's a common bread and Peeta might not remember the exact loaves he gave me and I know that Prim probably won't get the significance either.   Notes are out, Haymitch tells me, all gifts are packaged up by people other than the mentors to make sure that nothing game-breaking is slipped in.   

 

Then it hits me.   I look up at Haymitch who is waiting for me to say something.  "Cookies."

 

"Come again?"

 

"Cookies." I repeat.  "Iced sugar cookies with flowers painted on them."

 

A light gleams in Haymitch's grey eyes.  "Any specific kind of flower?"

 

"Katniss.  Primrose.  Violet." I list out firmly.

 

"Any particular reason these would stand out?" he asks.

 

"The baker slipped me a package with three cookies in it with those flowers painted on them as a gift for Reaping Day.   Prim saw hers but didn't get a chance to eat it.  I think Peeta might have been the one who painted the flowers on those cookies."

 

He nods.  "Effie mentioned the boy was an artist."

 

"She did?  When?"

 

"While you were on the train," he answers.  "Who do you think she was calling when she was making arrangements?  President Snow?"

 

I honestly hadn't thought about it, but it makes sense.  She would be coordinating with Haymitch to make sure that everything was working according to plan.  

 

"Anything else?"  I ask him, trying to keep my annoyance out of my tone.

 

Apparently I don't succeed since he gives me a little smirk and says, "Not right now, darlin', but if I think of something you'll be the first person I ask.  Just remember what I said, the Capitol wants the fairytale and if you want your sister to come home you need to give them the fairytale."  He slips out before I can retort. 

 

I glare at the closed door for several minutes.  I don't want to give the Capitol the fairytale.  I don't want to give them anything.  They don't deserve it.  But to get Prim home, I'm going to have to sacrifice something.   I lift my hand up to my mouth and start to gnaw on my thumbnail as I try to think of how I am going to play this.  How am I going to force feelings that I don't have for a guy I barely know?  I don't know.   And what's worse, nothing is coming to me.

 

I don't get very long to think either since the door opens again and the doctor returns, this time with a technician wheeling some kind of device.   They don't make me get undressed again, for which I am profoundly grateful, but they do make me lift my shirt and unbutton my pants.  

 

Using a pen-like instrument, the technician traces a path across my abdomen while the machine displays a readout that I can't figure out and looks like just a bunch of blobs and other formless things to me.  They seem to mean something to the technician though, because every so often the tech will pause and hit a few buttons.  All the while, the doctor makes little notes, frowning more and more after each passing minute.

 

Finally they finish and the technician leaves the room.  The doctor leans against the counter and fixes me with a stern glare.  "You're a very, very lucky lady," she says without any preamble.

 

I raise an eyebrow but refrain from commenting.

 

"You're severely underweight and that is affecting fetal growth and development," she lectures.  "At twenty two weeks, both you and your baby should weigh more.   You're lucky you haven't had further complications."  Her tone doesn't leave any doubt what those complications might be.  "I've drawn up a list of foods I want you to eat and ones I want you to avoid.  I've also taken the liberty of sending them over to Ms. Trinket to relay to the Training Center's household staff." 

 

I frown at this.  Great, now Effie's going to start mothering me as well.  

 

The doctor pulls out a large bottle of pills from the cabinet behind her and hands it to me.  "These are pre-natal vitamins that are of an extra high dosage.   You'll need to take one of these a day for the rest of your pregnancy or longer if you're planning on breastfeeding."  Her tone implies her disdain.

 

I'll admit, I haven't really given it much thought.   I suppose I'll breastfeed, you don't really have any other options in District Twelve, but the whole idea is so foreign to me.  Probably because I've never had much in the way of breasts.  

 

Continuing her lecture, the woman takes a few sheets of paper off of her clipboard and holds them out to me.  "These are the exercises I want you to do from now on.  You'll also need to put on at least twenty pounds between now and the end of your pregnancy.   It's very important to your child's future.  Really, you should know better.  Not eating enough, hmph!  So backward.  It's better to gain the weight now and lose it later than keep it off.  No wonder your district does so poorly in the Games."

 

My hands are shaking uncontrollably in rage at the woman's statements.   She thinks that the hunger that District Twelve faces is for looks and that we want to be as thin and malnourished as we are.   How incredibly naive and arrogant!   In District Twelve, there're so few people that are overweight and most of those who are come from the merchant class.   In the Seam, getting fat is like growing old -- it doesn't happen.   I take the exercise instructions, mentally vowing to incinerate them as fast as possible.   I consider throwing out the vitamins while I'm at it, but decide that even if I don't take them, my mother might have a use for them.  

 

There's a knock at the door and the first nurse enters.   My limousine is waiting for me out front, am I done?   Yeah, I'm done.  I'm done with this whole place.  I get up off the exam table and straighten my clothes.   I avoid looking at the doctor as much as possible.   That woman is one more thing for me to hate about the Capitol.  Just one of many.

 

The nurse escorts me back out to the limousine.  The same Peacekeepers as before are there waiting for me.  I wonder if they stayed for the entirety of my appointment or if they went someplace else for the couple of hours I was inside.  

 

I get my answer when inside the back of the limousine sits a man who is the least Capitol-like Capitol citizen I've ever seen.  His close cropped hair isn't dyed or elaborately styled and he isn't sporting stylized tattoos or garish makeup like so many people here do regardless of station or profession.  His clothes are even understated and elegant.   The only thing that marks him as being from the Capitol is a small line of gold eyeliner around his eyes.

 

He half sits up as I climb in the back and extends a hand to me.  "You must be Katniss," he says warmly.  "Prim has told me all about you.   She's very enamored of you, you know."

 

I take his hand.  "Um... Thanks.   I care a lot about her too."

 

"I can tell.   My name is Cinna and my partner, Portia, and I are the stylists for District Twelve."

 

I think back to the amazing opening parade outfits that made Prim and Peeta actually stand out as well as the interview outfits and give the man a small smile.  "Thank you for making her memorable," I say.

 

Cinna smiles back at me.   "It was my pleasure.  Your sister is very easy to work with."

 

"I'm nothing like my sister," I warn.

 

"I can see that.  That's why I wanted to take this time and get to know you a bit before all of the hustle and the bustle of the family interviews take place.  I want to know you so I can make you both look good and feel good."

 

Glancing down at my stomach, I frown.  "I'm not sure that's possible." It's not just the pregnancy or my lack of curves I'm worried about.   It's everything.   Being here in the Capitol, I feel trapped, like a prisoner, and I don't think a pretty dress is going to change that. 

 

Cinna regards me seriously for several moments.  "I may not be able to soothe your nerves or magically transport you back home, but at least I can try to make things better."

 

I'm a little surprised at how astute he is.  "Thanks," I say lamely.  He makes me uncomfortable, not because I hate him.  Because I actually could see myself liking him.  He feels more real than any other Capitol citizen I've met. 

 

"You don't need to feel nervous around me, Katniss.  I'm on your and Prim's side."

 

What was he?  A mind reader?  

 

"I'm not a mind reader, Katniss.  You're just very expressive."

 

I frown.  "That's not good."

 

"I find it quite adorable, personally.  I'm sure the rest of the Capitol will too."

 

I glance down at my fingers.   "It's dangerous," I whisper.  

 

Cinna reaches forward, placing his fingers under my chin.  He tilts my head up and looks me straight in the eye.   "Because you don't love Peeta," he says bluntly.

 

My eyes dart around wildly looking for listening devices.  I shake my head, not willing to say the words aloud.  

 

"Do you like him?" he asks.  

 

"I owe him," I answer.

 

"That's not what I asked."  He pulls back his hand, allowing me to look away.

 

I shrug my shoulders.  "It's complicated."

 

Cinna chuckles and shakes his head.  "When is life anything but complicated?  Did you know him well from before the Games?"

 

"No," I answer.  "That's part of what makes it complicated.  He's in there telling everyone just how much he loves me.  How he'll die just so my sister can come home again.  And to me he's just the boy with the bread."

 

"The boy with the bread?"

 

"It's what I call him in my mind.  Before I knew his name, it's how I referred to him."

 

"Because he's the son of a baker?"

 

I shake my head again.  "It's because he saved my life when I was eleven."  I don't elaborate.  

 

Cinna seems to accept that.  "I can see how that would make things complicated.  Can I offer you a little bit of advice?"

 

"Why not, everyone else has today.  You've at least asked my permission first."

 

He smiles.  "Be yourself."

 

"I'm not sure that's a good idea.  Haymitch..."  I trail off when Cinna holds up one hand to stop me.

 

"Haymitch is Haymitch," he tells me.  "He's frustrated because from his point of view lying is easy and if you can save a life with a deception you do it.  I imagine you and he rubbed each other the wrong way."  

 

I nod.

 

"I thought so.   That's because you're both alike in a lot of ways."

 

I bristle at the thought.  But I realize that Cinna has a point.  Haymitch and I, we are alike.  We're both stubborn and self-reliant and from the Seam.  I can't imagine what he goes through every year mentoring kids who die.  If it were me and I finally got a tribute I thought could make it, I'd do my best to save that one.  So I'd have one less dead kid dancing through my nightmares.  I can understand why he'd be angry if that tribute was going to sacrifice themselves for a tribute that everyone would view as weak.   I can understand it.  It doesn't mean I like it.  

 

Looking up at Cinna, I say, "I'm not sure I can be myself in front of an audience.  I'm likely to use the wrong tone or say the wrong thing or mess up some other way."

 

"Are you being yourself right now?" he asks me, his eyes intent.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Then I don't think you have anything to worry about.   Answer the questions honestly."

 

"But what if they ask me about Peeta?"

 

"They're going to ask you about him, there is no avoiding their questions about him.  And when they do ask, you're going to tell them about the boy with the bread who saved your life.  The boy who's been in love with you forever.   The boy who kissed you in the Justice Building.   The boy who is an amazing artist.  The boy who would do anything to protect the people he cares about to the point of self-sacrifice."  He pauses and regards me seriously.  "You don't have to talk about your feelings for him, the tone you take when telling those stories will be enough.  The audience will figure it out."

 

"But what if I freeze?"  Interviewees and tributes alike have done that in years past.  It's never worked out well.

 

"Pretend that you're talking to a friend from home," the stylist suggests.

 

I shake my head.  "I don't know.  This isn't the kind of thing that I'd talk about with them."  Gale already knows and I wouldn't feel comfortable talking to him about Peeta.  Not with him already so overprotective and possessive.   Madge would be better, but no matter how good of friends we have become there's still the unassailable fact that she's the Mayor's daughter and I'm a girl from the Seam.  

 

"Do you think you could tell me these things?" he asks gently.

 

I think about it for a few moments.  Could I talk with Cinna about Peeta?  Probably.  He's been a good listener so far and he doesn't seem to have the same judgmental attitude of everyone else I've encountered so far here in the Capitol and that includes Haymitch.  "I think I could," I answer finally.

 

"Then that solves that problem," he replies.  "I'll be in the audience right in full view of the stage.  If you get nervous, all you need to do is find me and I'll be there.  Just pretend it's just you and me in the room and you'll do fine."

 

"But what if-"

 

He cuts me off.   "No more what ifs, Katniss.  You'll be brilliant."  He pauses and scoots down the seat to the door.  "Besides, we're here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written 6/26/13  
> Revised 8/4/13  
> Beta read by RoseFyre
> 
> This is not my favorite chapter ever. It's transitory and is set up for a lot more things to come. So it needed to happen, but I'm still not happy with it. I like Cinna as a character, but writing him... Ugh! Haymitch is fun and I like him. But writing him is like pulling teeth sometimes.
> 
> I've actually patterned the reporters after several reporters I've seen in real life. They ask questions that make you go, "Really, are you that insensitive?" I've also tried to show some of the disparity between the Capitol and the Districts. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

 

Cinna helps me out of the limousine, waving away the Peacekeeper that steps forward.  I'm grateful.  Cinna, at least, is someone I think I can trust.   We walk together into the Training Center and I try to pretend that the Peacekeepers flanking and trailing us aren't there.   The white uniformed soldiers' presence does little to soothe my suspicion that we tribute families are here more as hostages than as guests.  

 

As if he senses my uneasiness, which considering his mind reading powers earlier he probably does, Cinna leans over and whispers, "Just ignore them, Katniss, they're only following orders."

 

In that instant, I understand that I shouldn't be worried about the white uniformed people around me, I should be worried about who gave them the orders and the order for us to come to the Capitol, President Coriolanus Snow.   I force myself not to shiver at the realization that things are bad enough that the President has taken a personal interest in this.  I have to focus.   I need to do what I can to save Peeta and Prim.  

 

"Where are we going?" I ask.  I'm trying to make conversation.  To try not to show my fears and suspicions. 

 

Cinna gives my shoulder a quick pat.  He understands.  "We're going to go the Twelve tribute quarters.  I thought you'd like some lunch and we can watch the interviews while we eat."

 

"Don't I need to get ready?"

 

The stylist shakes his head.  "Not yet," he answers.  "Portia and I decided that we weren't going to go for too elaborate of costuming for you.   We want you to be approachable not aloof. Too many bells and whistles would distract from the message we want to send."

 

"What is that message?"  I ask.

 

He glances back over his shoulder at our shadows.  "I'll tell you upstairs."

 

I get the message. 

 

We get onto the elevator and thankfully the Peacekeepers don't follow us.  Cinna presses the button for twelve.  The walls of the elevator are glass on one side and as we rise above the first floor the windows show an amazing view of the Capitol and the mountains beyond.   Cinna stands next to me but doesn't try to engage in any conversation for the duration of the ride.  I'm grateful.  I'm a little surprised how lovely the city is.  The Capitol itself isn't ugly.  It's just the ideas behind it.

 

We reach the twelfth floor and step out into a large open room.  To my left is a hallway leading to a series of doors.  Cinna tells me that they lead to the tribute and mentor quarters and at the end of the hallway is a set of stairs that leads up to the roof.   To my right is a large sitting room with a projection screen and lots of seating.   This is where we'll be watching the Games and interviews while we are here, I assume.   Straight ahead is the dining room on a raised platform.  Off of the dining room is a balcony with several chairs and a table.  

 

Cinna motions for me to follow him out to the balcony.   I comply and try not to gasp at how high up we are.  I'm thankful that my years of climbing trees mean I don't have a fear of heights.   I peer over the edge to get a better look.  The people congregated in the streets below look so small, like brightly colored beetles.

 

"Aren't they afraid one of the tributes will try to jump?" I ask, knowing Cinna is behind me. 

 

"No," he answers, "there's a force field surrounding the balconies and roof.   Anyone who tries to jump or even throw anything over the edge will get a nasty jolt."  He picks up a grape from the food laid out on the table next to me and tosses it over the edge.  There's an angry buzzing and the grape comes flying back at us.   Cinna catches it and holds it out to me.   I take it and try to drop it.  The fruit doesn't fall very far before almost bouncing back up to us. 

 

"I suppose that's good to know," I say, regarding the grape.   I resist the urge to try to throw it with all my might.   Instead, I set it down beside the plate holding the rest of the grapes.  I don't relish being pelted by the fruit on its return trip.

 

"Why don't we eat?" Cinna suggests.   He checks his watch.  "We've got about twenty minutes before the first interviews.  We can discuss what message we want to send with your interview."

 

I suppress a grimace.  "You want me to pretend to be in love with Peeta."  It isn't a question.  

 

Cinna doesn't reply immediately, instead picking up a plate and filling it.  He spoons some yellow rice with various nuts in it on first.  Then ladles out a deep brown stew over the top of it.   Along the edge of the plate, he places florets of broccoli and asparagus tips.   Then he hands it to me and prepares his own plate. "I know you said you're not in love with Peeta," he starts, turning to look at me.

 

I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks, and I nod my head confirming that.  No, I'm not in love with him.   I'm embarrassed by it.  I feel like I should feel something for him, but all I can manage is gratitude and confusion.   Peeta confuses me.   How can he love me?  He doesn't even know me!

 

"That makes things a little more complicated," Cinna says, turning back to his food.   He motions for me to sit down at the little table on one end and he takes a seat across from me.  "Do you like him at all?"

 

I shrug my shoulders.  "Like I said on the trip here, I owe him."  Cinna frowns at me and I struggle to elaborate.  "Maybe if things had been different, if there hadn't been the Games.  If things weren't so bad in District Twelve.  Maybe then we could be friends."  I look down at my food and take a few bites.   It's delicious, like all of the Capitol food, but I'm not really tasting it.  The words sound so callous, emotionless.  I know that Cinna's trying to help but I can't help but be annoyed that everyone's focusing on Peeta.   Prim's the one who matters the most to me.   Prim's the one I'm here for.  Getting Peeta home would be nice, but not if the cost is losing Prim.   Thinking about my sister, a picture pops into my head of her and Peeta laughing together.   "Prim already likes him.  That's a start.  She's a pretty good judge of character."

 

Cinna nods.  "They became very close during their time here," he confirms.  "Peeta told her stories to help her sleep at night.  Said he wasn't much of a singer, but he could give her that much."

 

A wave of gratitude washes over me.  "He sounds like a good person." 

 

"He is a good person, Katniss," Cinna says intently.  "He deserves to make it out of the Arena alive."

 

"So does Prim!"

 

He holds up a hand.  "I'm not saying she doesn't.  But we want to try to get both of them to come home.  Right now the Capitol is entranced with the Star-Crossed Lovers of District Two.  We need to do something to get the attention of the sponsors away from Cato and Clove and onto Peeta and Prim and you're the obvious link between them," he explains. 

 

"I know.  Peeta promised me he'd bring her home in the Justice Building."

 

"So you saw him."

 

I struggle not to blush as I remember the brief moment when he kissed me.   "I saw him."

 

"What happened?" he asks.

 

I feel my cheeks heat up and I know that I must be blushing furiously.  "He asked if he could give me a hug, and I said yes.  He held me for a little while and then we talked.  I gave him a pin."

 

Cinna interrupts me, his eyes intent.  "The mockingjay pin?"

 

I nod.  "Madge, my friend the Mayor's daughter, gave it to me when my name was called.  I gave it to him.  It seemed like the right thing to do.  He didn't have a district token and..." I trail off when I realize I'm starting to ramble.  I try to cover my nervousness by eating more food.   It's a lamb stew I realize, with some kind of stewed fruit in it.  It's tasty and I'm happy to have a meat that's a little gamier than most of the Capitol meats I've had so far.  

 

"Is that all that happened?  Did Peeta make up the part about the kiss?" Cinna asks me gently.

 

I want to deny it but that wouldn't be fair.   And it wouldn't be true.  For all I know, the room in the Justice Building is bugged.  In fact, I would be surprised if the rooms aren't bugged.   "No, he kissed me."

 

"Ah," he says as if that explains everything.  He takes a bite of his food and chews slowly.  Swallowing the mouthful, he asks, "Do you think you can help us get sponsors?"

 

Can I do that?  I think about it.  Yes, I can.   I'm not comfortable with pretending to have this great romance with Peeta, but if it will save Prim's life, I'll do it.   I owe her for saving mine and my baby's lives.  

 

I raise my eyes and meet Cinna's green-gold ones and say, "Yes."

 

"Thank you, Katniss." His voice is soft but full of emotion.

 

We finish the rest of our meal and talk about less stressful things.   Cinna explains that appearance wise they want me to look young, innocent and desirable.  

 

I don't even try to stifle my snort.  "Innocent?  Me?" I motion to my swelling belly.  "I'm not innocent."

 

Cinna chuckles.  "I said innocent.  I didn't mean virginal.  Innocence can mean a lot things but it's something pure and something worth protecting."

 

"Like Prim?"

 

"Like Prim," he agrees.  "She's innocent and the Capitol loves her for it.  However, she's young and too much of an underdog for them to take a chance on.   We have to make them want to take a chance on her.   Peeta's laid a lot of the groundwork already.   You probably won't have to say much, just enough for the Capitol to make assumptions on their own."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Well, I'm certain Caesar's going to ask you about the first time that you met."

 

"Probably in school," I answer.  "District Twelve is pretty small and we all know each other."

 

"So you grew up together?"

 

I shake my head.   "Peeta's a merchant, I'm from the Seam."

 

"Ah, so explain it to me.  Why does that make a difference?"

 

I try my best to explain the social differences between Peeta and me.   Like he likely never had to take out tesserae or go without food for days in a row.   How his house likely had more electricity, heat, water than mine.   How the merchants are blond, blue-eyed and fair, and the people from the Seam are black haired, grey-eyed, and olive skinned.  

 

Cinna stops me partway through my explanation.  "Your mother was a merchant, wasn't she?"

 

"Yes.  She left that life behind when she married my father.   She was the only daughter of the apothecary in town but when she declared that she was going to marry my father, her parents disowned her."

 

"Because he was from the Seam?"

 

I nod.   My parents marriage was a big scandal back in the day.  I never knew my grandparents on my mother's side even though they'd only died about six years ago.   A nasty coughing disease swept through Twelve that winter and a lot of people died.  Mostly the elderly and the coal miners whose lungs were already damaged from the mines.   I only remember this because the family that moved in to take over the business came by with a few old pictures and scrapbooks for my mother.   Nothing of any real value.  

 

Sitting back in his chair, the stylist regards me with an odd expression on his face.  "You might want to bring that up in the interview," he says.   When I start to protest he stalls me by holding up a hand. "You and Peeta.  It's the classic tragic love story.  Wealthy young man falls for poverty stricken young woman against the wishes of his family.   The Capitol will eat it up."

 

"If you say so."

 

"No, it's good.   But we should finish up.  I've requested that dessert be brought to us in the sitting room so we can watch the first few interviews."

 

I finish what's left on my plate and snag a roll.  It's got cheese baked into it, but it isn't nearly as good as Mr. Mellark's rolls.  Cinna smiles at me indulgently and picks up the basket of rolls and puts it under his arm. 

 

We both get up and walk to the other room.  "Don't you need to go help?"  I ask.

 

"I only had your mother to costume and she didn't take long.  We're going for simple, but elegant, looks."

 

"No fire?"

 

"I didn't say that," he answers with a smile.  

 

He picks up the remote and turns on the TV.   It's not quite time for the interviews and they're focusing on Cato and Clove.   I actually am interested to see how they are doing.  The last I saw them was several hours ago, before breakfast, and Cato was not doing well.   From what I can see, Clove has managed to remove the knife and has bandaged Cato's leg.  A large green backpack is shoved under his leg, the stash of supplies that Axel scrounged before blowing up the supply pile.  There's also a parachute next to her.  I'm guessing there wasn't a sewing kit in the boy from Three's stuff, it's not something immediately obvious to survival like food or water or a weapon. 

 

Clove is looking around nervously.  The supply pile is still smoking behind them and she's watching the edges of the woods warily.   "We need to move soon, Cato."

 

The blond haired boy grimaces.  "I know.   I'm not sure how fast I'll be able to go.  My leg hurts really bad."

 

"Badly," she corrects.  "Do you want me to cut you a staff?"

 

Cato tries to stand and doesn't get very far.   Every time he tries to put weight on his injured leg he winces and pulls it back up.   He looks up at Clove and says, "I think that might be a good idea.  I'm going to need your help to stand."

 

She looks over at the tree line.  They are about twenty feet from the closest copse of trees.   "Do you think you could crawl over to the trees?  You can use them as hand holds to pull yourself up."

 

He gauges the distance and nods.  "I can try."   He props himself up on his behind and using his one good leg starts pulling himself backwards towards the woods.   For a moment, I'm confused about why he's doing it this way.   Wouldn't it be easier to crawl on his stomach?  Then I remember where his injury is, on the front inside of his leg.   By crawling on his stomach he could aggravate it or cause his stitches to tear, assuming there are stitches.  I still don't know what they got in the parachute.   Clove helps where she can, pulling his torso along, but as they get closer to the tree line she stops and starts scanning the woods carefully for signs of any approaching tributes.   There aren't any, the Capitol would show any tributes hiding in ambush in a corner inset on the screen or the commentator, a young man with multi-colored feathered eyebrows and a glittering beauty mark, would be telling us what the tributes don't know.   But Clove doesn't get the commentary and so she's playing it safe.  Smart.  

 

They reach the edge of the woods and Cato uses two trees to hoist himself up.  When he's fully erect, Clove hands him his short sword, it must have survived the blast in camp, and moves off to a stand of birch trees.  She picks a likely sapling and starts hacking at it with her knife.   It's slow going and strenuous work.  

 

The commentator breaks in to let the viewers know that the interviews will be starting in five minutes.   Enough time for me to use the bathroom.

 

I ask where the closest one is and Cinna tells me that the bathrooms are all ensuite.  Not that I know what that means.   He motions for one of the white clad servants standing unobtrusively along the wall to show me.   I follow the young man to one of the rooms down the hall and he shows me where the room is.  

 

"Is this my room?" I ask the young man.

 

He nods.

 

The room is as large as my home back in the Seam.  In addition to the bathroom, there's a closet where you can dial for various clothes.  A machine you can speak into and food appears and several other machines, remotes and gadgets that I can't decipher and don't have time to deal with right now.  

 

I take care of my business and rejoin Cinna in the sitting room to find dessert and tea waiting for us.   There's several kinds of fresh fruit and a light airy cake with whipped cream frosting.   I help myself to some mixed berries and a generous slice of cake and take my seat. 

 

Caesar Flickerman's grand interview stage splashes up on the screen.  The man himself dressed in a sparkling blue suit and matching blue hair bounds up onto the stage and greets the crowd.  

"Good afternoon everyone!   I am so glad you're able to join us today.  I have an extra special treat for you today. Yes, I do!   From the mind of our great President Snow, we are going to be trying something a little different this year. I am going to be interviewing our top contestants' families right here on this very stage.  What do you think about that?"

 

The crowd cheers and I can hear the crowd out in the square behind me echoing the studio audience.   I wonder how Prim felt knowing that the Capitol was cheering for her death.  I know that if I were in her shoes, I would be angry and probably more than that. 

 

On the screen, Caesar calms the audience down.  "What a wonderful reaction!  Why I think I could feel the floor shaking from the roar.   So why don't we get right down to it?  Our first interviewee, all the way from District Twelve, the mother of our littlest tribute Primrose Everdeen, please give a warm Capitol welcome to Violet Everdeen!"    

 

My mother walks up onto the stage and I start in surprise. Cinna and his team have pulled off a miracle.  Somehow in the space of a few hours he's managed to transform her from the careworn woman that I know to something beautiful.  She's wearing a flowing red dress with a black flame-patterned lace overlay.  She smiles and waves to the crowd before taking a seat across from Caesar.

 

The suave host reaches out and clasps my mother's hand.   "My dear Violet, I can call you that, can't I?  You look positively radiant.   It's easy to see where our darling Primrose got her looks from."

 

My mother laughs.  "Oh Caesar, you're such a flatterer.   But thank you.   Cinna and his team do fabulous work."

 

"Indeed they do.  So how are you finding the Capitol?" he asks.  Unlike the tribute ones, these interviews don't have any time limit but I can tell that Caesar's falling back into his tribute interview mentality and it's a little disconcerting.  It's almost like we're tributes in a different kind of Games. 

 

My mother answers the best she can.  "I haven't had much of an opportunity to see the Capitol, Caesar.  I just got here this morning.  But what little I've seen, I can see why Prim loves it here."  I'm impressed at how good my mother is at bringing the conversation back to Prim.  

 

Caesar takes the hint.  "Prim is special little girl and quite a talented healer.   Did she learn that from you?"

 

A smile crosses my mother's face and she nods.  The question and answers go back and forth with my mother clearly trying to play up Prim's positive qualities.  Her resourcefulness.  She points to the nets and snares Prim's made and also to her healing of Peeta as well as her ability to think on her feet.   All the while, my mother is subtly flirting with the crowd and Caesar.  

 

"She doesn't mean anything by it," Cinna says cutting into my analysis of my mother's interview. 

 

"What?" 

 

"She's trying to make the crowd like her and it's working."

 

"How do you know?"  I ask, slightly annoyed that I'm so easy to read.  

 

He pulls out a tablet like device from beside him on the couch and hands it to me.   I swipe my finger across the screen to turn it on.   The screen resolves itself to a betting console and I look at Cinna in askance.  

 

"I'm not allowed to bet on the Games.  None of the stylists, prep teams, or escorts are.  But we can still follow the odds makers and how many people are betting on our tributes.  Before the announcement, your sister, despite Peeta's avowal of protection was still given the longest odds of winning of two hundred to one.   Now she's moved up to one hundred to one."

 

I look at the board and see that Cato and Clove are unsurprisingly rated as the strongest at four to one and three to one respectively.  "She's still has the worst odds according to this."

 

"But she's doing better.   That's important.   A lot of the sponsors like to throw their support behind a long shot and she's going to get money from that crowd."

 

Out of curiosity, I look to see where they rank Peeta.  Twenty to one.   That seems low for a tribute who scored a ten in training.  

 

Cinna sees my confusion and correctly deduces why.  "Peeta had a better ranking before he announced he was going to die for your sister."

 

I'm not really sure what to say.   I can understand now why Haymitch is so angry at me and Prim and now when we have the opportunity to get them both back he's so intent on succeeding.  

 

I watch the rest of my mother's interview with Caesar, while eating my dessert and chatting with Cinna.   Cinna keeps slipping me pieces of fruit and I'm amused.  It's clear that he's trying to help me gain weight and I appreciate it.   I finally tell him that I'd really like something a little more substantial even though we ate lunch about an hour ago.   He laughs and asks the waiting servant to bring us a tray of meats and cheeses along with more fruit.  That way we can nibble on what we want.   I nod and ask if we can have some goose liver and pickled vegetables as well.   I'm going to take advantage of the Capitol's generosity while I can and the doctor's stern admonitions to gain weight are still ringing in my ears.  

 

Farl, Peeta's middle brother, is up next and it's clear that he's nervous.  Portia's dressed him in a simple outfit of pants, collarless shirt, and a flame patterned vest all in charcoal grey.   They must be continuing on the flame theme from the Opening Ceremonies.   Caesar is immediately aware of Farl's nervousness and does his best to make the teenager feel comfortable.   They talk about Peeta and the bakery and Caesar gets Farl to admit to being able to beat Peeta at wrestling.   They talk about wrestling for a while and it becomes apparent that this is helping Peeta look more like a contender in the eyes of the Capitol.   They've already seen him take out a Career but that could have been a fluke.  Now they know that it was skill and that matters.  

 

Farl's interview is shorter than my mother's and soon it's Bing's turn on the stage.   He's dressed in a lighter grey version of his brother's suit.   Bing's not nearly as nervous as Farl was and that's a relief.  He talks about how it's lucky that Peeta had two big brothers to mess around with him because it taught him from an early age how to take out someone bigger and stronger than him.   He also mentions Peeta's skill at drawing and then pulls out a few pieces of paper. 

 

The camera zooms in on them, and  I can make out several sketches of various kinds of flowers on them - Primroses, Violets, Katniss, Roses, Bluebells, Irises, and more.  Bing then goes to explain that Peeta did most of the decorating at the bakery once they realized his skill at drawing.  I remember Effie's reaction to the sketches that Peeta did of me, she must have asked the Mellarks if they had any examples of his work.  

 

As she predicted, the Capitol is enchanted by Peeta's ability, as is Caesar.  He asks if there are any other sketches. 

 

Bing looks offstage for a moment and then nods.  "Our district escort has some more, she'll get them to your producer to show later."

 

"Want to build up the suspense, right?" Caesar teases.

 

"Definitely," Bing agrees.  

 

I know which sketches they're referring to.  The ones of me that Effie took from our house.   Knowing that the Capitol is going to see them bothers me.   They are personal.  Private.   I also know that I'm going to have to talk about them during my interview.  I sigh.

 

Cinna notices.  "What's wrong?"

 

I explain it to him.

 

He nods.  "They are going to ask you about them.  I'm sorry, Katniss."

 

I accept the apology for what it is and let the subject drop.  Bing's interview finishes up and Mrs. Mellark is up next.  

 

Caesar must have been warned ahead of time because he keeps her interview short and to the point.  He makes sure not to bring up me or anyone from my family.  In fact, he spends most of his interview with her talking about the outfit she's wearing.  A smart red suit with black fur trim and glossy gold buttons with flames embossed on them.   He has her model for the audience and exclaims on just how good she looks in the clothes and that it's clear that Peeta got his looks from her.  He didn't.  He looks more like his father than his mother, but Mrs. Mellark preens under the attention she's getting.  

 

The last of the District Twelve interviewees for the early afternoon is Mr. Mellark.   His interview is quieter and serious.  He talks about how Peeta is a good obedient boy and cares for people with his whole heart with little concern for his own well-being.  I sense Haymitch's coaching here.   He's trying to portray Peeta in a more positive light so that the seditious words can be written off as the mutterings of an over-emotional love-struck boy.   It seems to be working.   Mr. Mellark obviously was aware of his son's feelings for me.  He tells Caesar a story about how when Peeta was twelve and going up for his first Reaping, he asked his father if there was some way he could give a gift to me without me finding out that he was the one giving it.  Mr. Mellark helped Peeta make the gift, an iced cookie, and slipped it into the bag with the bread he traded for some of the herbs I brought.

 

The last is a lie.  I've never traded herbs to the Baker, it was a squirrel, but that explains the crudely decorated cookie I got that year.   Mr. Mellark had said he threw it in because it wasn't good enough for customers but now I know the truth.  Peeta had made it for me.   I wonder about how many of the so-called extras I've gotten over the years from the Baker have been because of Peeta.   Probably all of them, if I'm honest with myself.   Those extras helped, a lot, and it's just one more thing I owe Peeta for.  

 

There's a short break after Mr. Mellark finishes so that Caesar has time to freshen up and prepare for the next round of interviews.  It's only been an hour and a half, but I'm grateful for the break.  

 

"When do I need to go get ready?" I ask Cinna.

 

The man glances at a clock on the wall.  "I've asked Flavius, Octavia, and Venia to join us at three.  Your interview is scheduled to take place between five and six tonight."

 

I do the mental math and allowing for time zones, that will make it during Mandatory Viewing back home.   I frown.  That means Gale will be watching and I know he's not going to like what he's going to see.   I only hope he doesn't do or say something stupid.

 

I turn my attention back to the television to find that they've switched back to showing the Games during the break.  They're still focused on Cato and Clove and the two are struggling without much success to navigate through the woods.  

 

"We need to find a place to hole up while your leg heals," Clove says.

 

Wincing with each step, Cato says, "You're right.  But where?  We don't want to be caught out in the open with the likes of Eleven and Twelve still around.  The females wouldn't be much of a problem but the males could be deadly."

 

"I could scout ahead," Clove offers.  "But I don't like leaving you alone."

 

"I'll be fine," Cato protests.

 

The girl from Two stops and looks up at him.  She reaches up and cups his face in between her hands and breathes, "I don't want to lose you.  Not now.  Not when we're so close to winning it all."

 

He turns his head and kisses the palm of her right hand.  "You aren't going to lose me," he whispers.  

 

"You can't know that."

 

"I know it.  The Capitol wants us to win.  We just have to put on a good show and they'll reward us, you'll see.   They've already changed the rules for us.  They want us to be together, I just know it."

 

"You're right, I'm just afraid that the other meat didn't get the memo. Especially Twelve."  She curls her lip at the last word.

 

"You'll just have to teach him a lesson," Cato soothes.

 

"I plan on it.   I've got a knife with his name all over it."

 

The boy smiles down at her.  "Should I be jealous?" he teases.

 

"Never!"  Clove hugs him and for a moment I feel pity for these Careers from Two.  They are so obviously in love and devoted to each other, I can see why the Capitol loves them so much.  But, I tell myself, they need to die so that Prim can come home.   These two lovers are standing between me and my sister and it's clear from their words that they've dehumanized the other tributes, referring to them by their district numbers and as 'meat.'  I wonder what kind of training these two have gone through to become so callous toward their fellow tributes.  

 

"It's hard to hate them isn't it?" Cinna observes.

 

I nod. 

 

"You aren't the only one with that problem.  Look."  He motions to the screen.

 

The cameras have switched perspective again.   Up in a tree about twenty feet from Cato and Clove is the remaining tribute from District Ten, Clint.   He's got a rope in his hands and a knife strapped to his thigh.  I wonder how he got up into that tree with his foot.

 

It's clear from the expression on the boy's face that he's been watching the whole exchange.  He's having some kind of internal struggle and he keeps clenching the rope in his hands methodically.  

 

The two Careers continue on their way right under Clint's tree.  The boy from Ten watches them, but makes no move to give away his position.  

 

"He could have gotten the drop on them," I say aloud.   I don't ask the question as to why he didn't ambush the two.  I don't need to.  Even though Cato is injured and Clove is caring for him.  Even though they were acting sweet just moments before, the fact remains that the two are killers.  Even injured, Cato took out Axel.  Clove isn't any less deadly.  She's very accurate with her knives and extremely protective of Cato and he of her.   No, it's safer to take them out one at a time.  

 

The action changes back to the interviews with Caesar with the Games being shown in a small box in the corner of the screen.  District Eleven is up next.   It turns out that Rue is the oldest of six children ranging in age from ten to toddler.   Caesar has the whole family up on the stage for the interview, which explains the break in the interviews to set up the stage to accommodate seven people and Caesar.  

 

The parents spend lot of time talking about Rue's agility and resourcefulness. While her siblings who can talk, the youngest isn't able to speak in full sentences yet, talk about how their oldest sister is bossy and sneaky and likes to hide their toys up in the rafters of the house.   It's kind of cute and the audience is enchanted.  Especially when the youngest decides that Caesar's hair is "Pretty!" and tries to make several unsuccessful grabs at it.   The interview lasts for about fifteen minutes before the parents signal that the toddler is in need of a diaper change and they wrap up.  

 

Thresh's grandmother is escorted up next by his younger sister who is apparently named Winnow.  They're also interviewed together and I wonder what kind of strings Effie had to pull to get us interviewed separately.  

 

Winnow clearly doesn't want to be there and it shows.  She's a lot like her brother with her answers: short and monosyllabic.  But unlike her brother, who came off as menacing, she's coming off as sullen.  The times when they cut away to the audience for reactions, I can see they aren't happy with what they are seeing and hearing.   Their grandmother tries to do damage control as much as possible but she's hard of hearing and misses some of the questions directed at her.   The whole interview is long and uncomfortable to watch.  

 

Caesar tries to make them look as good as possible, but even he's starting to run out of questions to ask.  The interview drags to a halt and Caesar announces that there's going to be another short break.   Probably to prevent another miserable interview like the one that just finished.  

 

I take the time to run to the bathroom again.    When I return I see that Effie has joined us.  

 

"So, Cinna tells me you've been watching the interviews.  What do you think?" she asks.

 

"You've made your point," I answer.   "Thresh's family's interview didn't help him at all, did it?  Rue's family was cute but the most memorable part was the toddler, not anything they said about Rue."

 

"Exactly!" Effie responds with a little clap.  "That girl, Winnow, had absolutely no presence or manners.   I felt sorry for poor Caesar having to try to make the poor dear look good.  She was positively dreadful.  It's a good thing she's not a tribute or else she'd never get any sponsors."

 

I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to respond so I don't say anything.  

 

Cinna seems to sense my discomfort and changes the subject.  "Do you know who they're going to interview next?" he asks.  I take the opportunity to slip around her and sit down on the couch as far away from the escort as I can.  

 

Effie turns to him.  "I believe they're going to interview the tribute from Ten's family next.   Lucilla, Ten's escort, told me that they wanted to bring their animals with them but she managed to persuade them otherwise.  Thank goodness.   Can you imagine if the animal decided to do their business on stage?" She shudders. "Just think of the smell!"

 

"So are they going to try to put Two last?"

 

Effie smirks.  "Haymitch told me that Brutus was furious that we'd gotten the first and last spots.  But the early bird gets the pearl I always say!  So they're scheduled to be after Ten."

 

"I thought they'd have Five go next," Cinna observes.

 

"From what I've been told, they're having trouble finding anyone to interview.  It seems that the poor girl doesn't have any family or close friends."

 

"Poor girl," Cinna murmurs.

 

I take a chance that Effie won't be totally horrid and ask, "Where's everyone else?  I'd have thought that they'd be up here with you."

 

Effie waved one hand.  "Portia's escorted them to a little meet and greet the other escorts and I have organized.  Many of the biggest sponsors will be there."

 

"Shouldn't you be with them?"

 

"Oh no!   That'd be taken as too pushy!  No, I've already talked to the most likely prospects earlier and I've given Portia a list of who to court and who to avoid.  She'll make sure that any promises of funding get directed to Haymitch right away."

 

"Should I be there?" I want to know.

 

Effie shakes her head.  "Not until after your interview with Caesar!   We don't want to give away any spoilers."

 

"But won't they miss my interview?"

 

"Of course they won't!" Effie exclaims.  "We've set up several screens, that way they can watch the interviews and mingle.  It's really a well thought out plan!"

 

I nod not really sure I agree with her.   Seeing that I have about an hour before the prep team shows up, I excuse myself to take a quick nap.   Effie and Cinna both approve but for different reasons.  Effie because it means I won't be sleepy for the after party later.  Cinna because he knows what a long day I've had already and will continue to have.  

 

~*~

 

I'm awakened by the sound of someone knocking on my door.  I get up and answer it.  

 

"Wakey, wakey sleepyhead!" Flavius greets me.  Octavia and Venia are both equally chipper.

 

I manage a half-hearted smile at the prep team.  They're fairly harmless and seem oblivious more than anything.   They fuss and flutter about me removing the clothes I had on and making sure there aren't any stray hairs they'd missed.   Then they have me sit down on a high stool.

 

I'm grateful that this is going on in the semi-privacy of my room here in the Training Center rather than some communal dressing room.   When they deem me ready, Cinna comes in to give them his orders as to how I'm to be made up and then pulls out the dress I'll be wearing from the closet.  

 

Venia quickly goes over to help the stylist inspect the dress for any wrinkles or any other imperfections.   But from where I'm standing I can't see any.  The dress is a calf length lace dress with triangular insets of crepe to make it flare out when I walk.   It's primarily the color of candlelight with a slight gradient starting from the hem of a luminous orange.  Here and there various crystals are sewn strategically over the lace so that it twinkles in the light.   There's a pair of simple lace up sandals to go with it. 

 

"It's beautiful," I tell Cinna after Octavia settles a delicate chemise over my head. 

 

"You're the spark, Katniss," he tells me.  "I wanted to do you justice."

 

"You have."

 

They do up my hair in a simple style with two braids along the side of my head merging into one with most of my hair left undone.  Flavius carefully curls my loose hair with some kind of device to make it more pleasing to the Capitol audience.  

 

Venia finishes helping Cinna with the dress and comes over to inspect me.  I get off of the stool and she walks around me clucking her tongue to the roof of her mouth.  She decides I'm ready and she and Cinna carefully help me into the dress so as not to mess up my hair.   When it's in place, Flavius smoothes down any fly away strands with some kind of gel.

 

Then Octavia puts a cover up over me and the trio start in on my makeup.  According to Cinna's instructions, I'm to be only given light makeup to enhance my looks.   Whatever that means.  But the prep team seems to understand it and I'm ready to go in just less than ten minutes.  

 

I check the clock on the nightstand and realize that the whole thing has taken over an hour and a half.   Ugh. 

 

Effie and Cinna escort me downstairs and to the studio where the interview will take place.   They take me directly backstage where I see all sorts of people rushing around.

 

I turn to Effie and ask, "Did they find anyone for Rani?"

 

"Who?"

 

"The girl from Five."

 

"Oh?  No.   A few classmates and the director of the community home she was from.   That's it.  No one really worth the expense of interviewing," she says dismissively.  "You should be thankful.  No family interviews for her means more potential sponsors for Peeta and Prim.  You just have to go out there and be pleasant and polite like I taught you."

 

My eyes dart to Cinna who quirks his lips at me. I struggle not to laugh at the escort.   She wouldn't think that's polite at all.  

 

We're led to the wings of the stage and I'm able to watch what's left of the interview with Clove's family.   She's got an elderly father and a fairly young mother.  The mother is wearing the white uniform of a Peacekeeper and I am a little surprised.   I didn't know that Peacekeepers were from Two.  I thought they all came from the Capitol.   I then wonder if they're going to air this interview in the Districts or not.   They don't always.  Because they don't want the Districts to know about the characteristics and lifestyles of the other Districts.

 

I briefly entertain the thought that I could sabotage my interview and talk about life in District Twelve and then they won't broadcast it.   But then I realize that my interview will still likely be shown in Twelve because what I say will already be common knowledge there.  

 

Clove's parents finish up and come offstage.   Caesar again announces that there's going to be a short break before the final interview.  Me. 

 

The blue-haired host bounds offstage and comes over to where Effie, Cinna and I are standing.  

 

"Effie!  So good to see you!   You look radiant!"  Caesar greets.  "Pink is such a good color on you!"

 

The escort pats her wig and looks pleased.  "Thank You, Caesar.  You know Cinna, of course."

 

"How could I not!   Those costumes at the parade.  Fabulous!   I swear I could hear the gasps from the crowd.   Such a bold statement!"

 

"You're too kind," Cinna murmurs.  "I only wanted to do the tributes justice."

 

"And you did a fine job with that."  He turns to me.  "And who do I see here?  You must be Katniss!  I've been dying to meet you."

 

I want to ask if he really was dying, but I hold my tongue.  Caesar is one of the most powerful men in the Games and I'd like to have him on my side.   Instead, I say, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you too, Caesar.   You look so much better in person, I have to say."  He does, but that's not saying much.

 

"Do you really think so?" he asks.  "I swear it's the camera.  It adds ten pounds no matter what I do.   You should see the diet I'm on.  Nothing but blended juices.   It's disgusting.  But such is the price of fame."

 

I can't imagine deliberately starving yourself to be thin.   If I could, I'd eat loads of food every day and damn the consequences.   "I don't think you're fat at all, Caesar.  You look just right to me."

 

Caesar sighs and looks at Cinna and Effie.  "Isn't she quite the charmer.  I can see why Peeta's in love with her.   Why If I were ten years younger, I'd throw my hat in the ring for you."

 

I repress a shudder.   Caesar's been the interviewer for longer than I've been alive.  He's older than my mother.  The thought of him and me...  Ugh!  I can't finish the thought.  

 

Luckily I don't need to say anything, because a black clad man with a headset comes over and tells Caesar that they're going live in less than two minutes.   Caesar thanks the man and turns back to us.  This time he's all business.   "Now, I want to quickly go over what we're going to talk about.   Effie's given me the sketches Peeta did of you and we'll want to talk about those.   Also I'm going to ask you to tell me some stories about your delightful sister, Prim.   Then, we're going to talk about your and Peeta's relationship.   Finally we'll finish with..." he pauses as if considering something.  "Nevermind.  I want it to be a surprise."

 

"You're making me nervous," I say. 

 

"Don't worry about it.  It's nothing bad, I assure you."

 

I want to demand that Caesar tell me what he's keeping secret from me, but I don't.   "I suppose I'm going to have to trust you, Caesar," I say instead.  

 

"Indeed you will," he says.  "Now, if you'll excuse me."  He sketches a quick bow at our group and bounds back onstage.  

 

He's given the cue from the director up front and he once again launches into his stage persona.   "Welcome back, folks!  I hope you're ready for a rare treat.  Now, I know what you're saying:  'Caesar, you've given us so many treats already today!'  And I have.  But you know me, I've got to save the best for last.  And here she is, Katniss Everdeen!"

 

The crowd erupts in cheers and I walk out onstage.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cinna and Effie slip out of the wings and into a couple of chairs set off to one side.   I'm glad to have Cinna where I can see him.   I smile and wave at the crowd, who cheer and blow me kisses.   I'm not comfortable with being in the limelight like this but I'll do what I need to in order to make sure Prim comes home.

 

I take my seat across from Caesar and the host calms the audience down with a few hand motions.  

  
When they're quiet, Caesar begins.  "Katniss, it is wonderful to finally meet you in person.  We've heard so much about you that I feel like we know you already."

 

That's my cue to turn on what charm I have.   "I hope I still have a little mystery, Caesar.   But I will say, I am honored to be here tonight with you all and I'm grateful for the opportunity to talk with you about the people close to my heart."   I'm lying and I hope it isn't too noticeable. 

 

Caesar seems to take the words at face value.  "You mean Peeta and Prim?" he asks.

 

I look out into the audience and find Cinna.  He gives me a nod.  So I take a breath and tell my second lie of the interview.  "Yes."

 

"It must have been heart-wrenching seeing them both in the Games."

 

"It was.  Is," I correct.   "I'm eternally grateful to Prim for volunteering to take my place so that I could have my baby safely.  And I'm also grateful that Peeta promised me that he'd protect my little sister in the Arena."  I pause and give the cameras what I hope is an earnest look.  "But what I'm most grateful for is the opportunity we now have for both of them to come home and all of the love and support the Capitol has shown them and me so far.   I just hope that both of them can get up here at the end of the Games and tell you in person."

 

"I know many of us here feel the same," Caesar says and the audience seems to agree with him since they burst out into spontaneous applause.

 

"Thank you," I say.  Then I turn back to Caesar.  "So where should we start?" I ask.

 

The host laughs.  "My, you're a determined young lady."

 

"Sorry, I just don't know what you want me to talk about first."

 

"Why don't we go back to that day two weeks ago when your name was pulled from the ball?" 

 

I nod, not really wanting to talk about that day, but I know that I don't have a choice.  

 

"What was your first thought?" he wants to know.

 

"Honestly?" I ask him.

 

"Honestly."

 

I take a deep breath.  "I was scared."  And because I know that the Capitol doesn't want to hear about how horribly we look upon the Games out in the non-Career Districts, I elaborate, "Normally I would be honored to be chosen.  But I don't have just me to worry about."  I place my hand on my stomach.   "I was scared that because of my pregnancy I wouldn't be able to compete to my best ability.   I was scared I would lose my baby.   I was scared I wouldn't bring honor to my District."

 

"All valid fears," Caesar assures me.  "And when Prim volunteered?"

 

"I was still scared, but for different reasons.  Prim is my baby sister.  It's hard to think of her being capable of competing in the Games when I still remember her learning how to walk."

 

"But she is capable, isn't she?"

 

I bless Caesar for that opening.   "She's very capable," I state firmly.   "She's quick and she's able to climb trees well.   She's really good at setting snares and making nets.   She's also a good healer which means she knows anatomy."  I let them draw their own conclusions from that. 

 

"It sounds like she's a talented little girl!"

 

"That's only the tip of her ability," I assure him.  "But I'm afraid I'm going to come off sounding like a gushing older sister."

 

"Well, you are a gushing older sister."

 

"True, but I'm not supposed to admit that."

 

The audience laughs and I relax a little.   It's working.   I just hope I can get them to see that Prim is more than just her age and someone worth saving.

 

"So let's talk about Peeta," Caesar starts.

 

I nod and steel myself for the next part.  This isn't going to be easy. 

 

"How did you meet?" he asks.

 

I look at Cinna and I'm grateful that he and Effie prepared me for this.   "I probably met him in school, but I wasn't really aware of him until later.  You see, in District Twelve there are two groups: the Merchants and the Miners.  My family worked in the mines while we all know that Peeta's family runs the town bakery.  The two groups don't really hang out much."

 

"So you'd say that you're from different sides of the track, to quote the old phrase?" he asks.

 

I nod.   "Yeah.   It wasn't until I was eleven and my father was killed in a mining accident that I really noticed Peeta.  It was spring, and I wasn't old enough yet to take out tesserae, and my mother got sick.   She was sick for a long time and we weren't able to get any food because of it.  I went into town to try to sell some of our things but it was raining really hard and not many shops were open.  And to make things worse I lost what I brought to sell when I fell in a puddle."  It's not the full truth, but I have to be careful with how much I say.  I can't make it sound like the Capitol was at fault, even though they were.  "I was really dejected and curled up under the apple tree outside of the bakery to cry.   Peeta must have seen me from inside because a little bit later he came out with two loaves of partially burnt bread and gave them to me."  I pause and look at Caesar with a serious expression on my face.  "He saved my life.  And more than that, he gave me hope."

 

"Hope?" the blue-haired host asks.

 

"Hope," I answer.   "The next day at school when I went to go thank him and I saw a dandelion at his feet.   I don't know if you know this, but dandelions are edible and I realized at that moment that I'd survive.  I know that without Peeta, Prim and I wouldn't be here."

 

"That's pretty intense."

 

"It is.   I owe him a lot."  And that's the truth.

 

"I can see how he'd become important to you after a start like that."

 

I nod.

 

"So, why didn't you ever come out about your relationship?"

 

And here's where I need to lie again.   I try to think of something close to the truth and I remember the class differences between us.  "Because people wouldn't approve.   I'm from the Seam.  He's from the town.   The last time a marriage happened between Merchant and Seam were my parents.  And my mother was disowned for marrying my father.  I...We..." I trail off deliberately to let them draw their own conclusions.  

 

They do.   There's a low rumbling in the audience and I can tell they're making the connection I want them to.  That we weren't open about our relationship because of his parents.   It's not true, but the truth won't save Prim.  

 

"What drew you to Peeta?" Caesar wants to know next.

 

"His kindness," I answer promptly.  "His goodness.  His protectiveness.  He is very hard to dislike, you know."

 

"Did you dislike him?"

 

"I tried.  But I just couldn't.   And things just went from there."

 

"We've seen that Peeta is an extraordinary artist.  Did you know that about him?"

 

I decide to tell the truth.  "Not until after he was reaped.   His father gave me an envelope with some sketches in them and I was stunned by what I saw."

 

Caesar turns to the audience.  "Would you like to see them?" he asks.

 

The crowd lets out several cries of affirmation.   A screen descends and the sketches of me are shown to all of Panem.   There are little oohs and ahs  over them.  But the one that draws the biggest response is of me rubbing my belly with a small smile on my face.   The audience coos at that one and I struggle not to be too embarrassed.  

 

"Peeta really is an amazing artist," Caesar says after the last sketch fades away.  

 

"He is," I agree.  "I'm really lucky to have those from him."

 

"Now we need to move on to the elephant in the room."

 

"Elephant?" I ask, not really sure what he's referring to.

 

"So Katniss, have you and Peeta discussed names for the baby?" Caesar starts the interview.

 

I blink.  I'd been expecting him to ask about something else, not this.  "Um, we haven't really had a chance to talk about it." It's the truth.  We haven't had a chance to talk about it because he isn't the father of my child.   But apparently the Capitol, as it is wont to do, got it all wrong and they think Peeta's the father.  Oh boy, Gale's got to be livid.   As if my talking about a pretend relationship wasn't enough.

 

Caesar reaches out and pats my stomach. "So, no special name for the little lady?"

 

"I'm having a girl?" I blurt out, reaching down to place my hands on my belly.  I'm guessing one of the tests that they did when I got here told them that.  We don't have capabilities like that in Twelve you find out the sex of the baby when it is born, not while the mother is still pregnant.   

 

"Whoops!" Caesar says, putting a hand to his mouth.  "I wasn't supposed to spill the beans on that, folks.   Can you forgive me, Katniss?"

 

I manage a hesitant smile.  "I guess.   It's not like you can take it back now."

 

"No, indeed, I can't.   So any favorite girl names?"

 

I shake my head.   I honestly haven't thought of it.  It's not important.   When the baby comes, that's when coming up with a name matters, not before.

 

"Well, since you haven't thought of a name yet, maybe we can help?" I look at Caesar in confusion.  How would he help?  Caesar seemed to have expected this response because he turns to the audience.   "What do you think, folks?  Should we have a poll about what Katniss and Peeta should name the baby?"

 

The crowd erupts into cheers and claps.  They love this idea.  Oh great, I think, they're going to saddle my kid with a horrible name.   I smile weakly.  "I'm sure we'd be happy for the help. Assuming Peeta and Prim make it out of the Games."  I don't want them to think they get to name my child if my sister doesn't come home.  

 

"Then it's settled!" He says, clapping his hands.  "We'll set up a hot line and collect suggestions and then the top five names will be picked and then voted on by the citizens of Panem."

 

The audience cheers are even louder than before.  They're clearly invested in this drama now, but I can't help feel like I've gotten myself into a trap.   Still, if it means that Prim is able to come home then any sacrifice is worth it.

 

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Completed 7/4/13  
> Revised 8/13/13  
> Beta read by RoseFyre
> 
> Holy Crap was that long! But I'm not going to apologize for that. Feel sorry for my poor beta, Rose. She got this thing literally without me doing a read through because I was smack in the middle of Camp NaNoWriMo to try to finish this sucker off. Seriously, almost ten thousand unrevised words. She had her work cut out for her. As always, any mistakes in this are mine and some are deliberate.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty One**

 

Interview over, I meet up with Effie and Cinna backstage.  

 

Effie is ecstatic.  She's bouncing up and down on her toes and clapping her hands together lightly.   "You did beautifully, Katniss!   Why I'm sure we'll be able to get oodles more sponsors now."

 

I nod and turn my eyes to Cinna.   The stylist smiles at me and places a hand on my shoulder.   "The crowd liked you.   And now they have an extra stake in making sure Peeta and Prim come home.   The Capitol wants to play a part in your story and they won't be able to play that part unless your sister and Peeta win."

 

"I hope they don't decide to saddle my baby with a name like Vomitoria or something like that."

 

Both Effie and Cinna chuckle.  Effie smiles at me, like she understands how I feel.  "Nothing says you have to call your daughter that.  I'm sure whatever name the Capitol picks you can find a nickname from it," she says cheerfully.

 

"You mean like you did with Euphemia?" Cinna asks with a knowing tone.

 

The escort sniffs.  "I don't know what you're talking about."  Then she smiles.  "You could also just give her another name and call her that."

 

"Wouldn't the Capitol be upset about that?" I ask.

 

Cinna shrugs.  "Possibly.  But I wouldn't worry about it now."

 

"That's very good advice, Cinna.  Because right now you need to turn on the charm!"  Effie claps her hands together.  "Come on!  Chop chop!  So so so much to do and we need to get moving!"

 

That's right, the sponsor meet and greet.   I stifle a groan.  All I want to do is go back to my quarters and go to bed.   The previous night of sleeplessness is starting to catch up to me.  But I know I have to make an appearance and be charming to boot, although I'm pretty sure I used up all of my charm during the interview.  

 

Effie leads Cinna and me to a waiting limousine.   Inside, there's a basket with some bread, cheese, and cured meats.   I glance at Cinna, knowing that this is his doing and he shrugs.   "The doctor you saw earlier sent over her report," he explains.   "It basically boiled down to 'she needs to eat more.'"

 

I wrinkle my nose.   But I know she's partially right, I do need to gain more weight and while I'm here in the Capitol is the best time to do it.   I take a few obligatory morsels and eat them but my heart really isn't in it.  

 

We arrive at a large building with several potted plants out front and a large door.   The door to the limo is opened for us and Cinna helps Effie and me out.   Cinna's prep team comes forward and does a few repairs to my makeup and hair and then we're ready to go in.   I'm reminded of the arrivals of various heads of departments to the presidential mansion following the last election.   The tableau is oddly similar with a red carpet and camera crews behind a cordoned off area.  

 

I try to smile and wave at them but I'm pretty sure it comes off as a grimace.   I'm tired of playing this game and I want to go home.  

 

We get inside and Effie immediately disappears to check on something, I don't know what and I don't want to know what.  

 

Cinna leans down and whispers in my ear.  "Prim's gone up to forty to one odds."

 

It's still the lowest odds of anyone left in the Games, but it's better than before.  "And Peeta?" I ask.

 

"Ten to one.  Just behind the two from Two."

 

"When do they stop taking bets?" I want to know.   I don't like that people are betting on my sister's odds of survival but from what I've seen in Twelve there are those people who will bet on anything.  

 

"Tonight at midnight," Cinna answers.  "They don't want any last minute bets coming in when it's pretty clear who the winner is going to be.   That's why they cut it off at midnight after the final tribute family interview airs."

 

That brings up another point.  "When do they cut off sponsoring?"

 

"The short answer is they don't.   The more accurate answer is that sponsorship late in the game is expensive and any money given is non-refundable if unused.   That's why you tend to see tributes getting gifts of odd kinds toward the end.  The mentors are trying to use up what funds they can and sponsors don't tend to give late in the game."

 

I nod.  "So that's why it's important we get as much as we can now."

 

"Exactly."

 

Effie returns and leads us into a large room.  Inside are about a hundred Capitol citizens mingling with the families of the remaining tributes.   There are several tables laden with food here and there around the room and two large screens with seating set up to watch the Games.  Over in one corner, there's a bank of telephones manned by a man with bright green hair.  That must be where those interested in sponsoring go to make their arrangements.  

 

I look around to see if I can spot my mother.  It doesn't take me long.  She's seated in one of the viewing areas talking with several older men.  Most of them seem interested in what she is saying, but one is more interested in the front of her dress.   

Nudging Cinna, I ask.  "Who's that?"  Indicating with one hand the leering man near my mother.

 

"Department of Minerals Assistant Deputy Director Virgil Snell, he's from old money and likes to think of himself as having a fine eye for and I quote 'a diamond in the rough.'  He likes the ladies and has been known to buy a night here and there with a victor."

 

My blood runs cold at that last one.  "Buy a night?"  I can't stop myself from asking.  I don't want to know but I have to know at the same time.

 

Effie's the one who answers, her voice quieter than the syrupy chirping I'm used to.  "It's considered quite the honor to have a victor of the Hunger Games as a lover and many citizens of the Capitol pay quite handsomely for it.  Some try to make it an exclusive arrangement.  It's all managed through one of the President Snow's undersecretaries."

 

"But why would a victor agree to..." I can't get the words out and I can feel my cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

 

Effie just looks at me with sad eyes and shakes her head.  

 

Cinna leans down and whispers the answer in my ear.  "They don't have a choice, Katniss."

 

My eyes widen in horror and I look back and forth between the two.  "You mean if Prim wins she'll have to-"

 

"Yes," Effie answers.  "Not immediately, of course.  She's far too young.  But when she's more mature.  Most don't start until they're seventeen or eighteen. Although I believe Finnick Odair began when he was sixteen."  She looks over to Cinna for confirmation. 

 

The man nods.  "That's correct." 

 

"So you see we have time yet," she finishes.

 

Time for what?  Time to break it to my little sister that because she had the good luck to survive the Games that she's now got to whore herself out in order to keep the people she cares about safe?  I don't know what to think.  I'm horrified.  "Is there anything we can do to stop it?" I manage to get out.

 

The escort shakes her head.  "There is hope, not every victor is contracted for that.   Some aren't as desirable or they're wanted for other things."

 

"What other things?"  I ask suspiciously. 

 

Again Cinna and Effie exchange a glance.  "I believe Beetee Lee from Three is asked to make unique toys for Capitol children," Cinna says after a few moments.  They don't give any other examples, which tells me that for the most part the Capitol will want you in their bed or not at all.   I wonder if that's one of the reasons why Haymitch started drinking.  

 

"We shouldn't worry about that now," Effie says.   "We need to worry about getting your sister home first.  I'm sure that they won't have Peeta on the rolls because of you; they wouldn't want to stand in the way of your love.  As for Primrose, I'm sure something can be arranged."   Effie sounds oddly confident, like she knows something about the system and how it works. 

 

Still, her words don't make me feel any better.  I can save Peeta from being forced to be a Capitol whore, but I can't save my sister  I want to be sick.

 

It's apparently noticeable because Effie and Cinna pull me back through the doors and out into the hallway.

 

"Are you going to be able to handle being in there?"  Cinna asks me.

 

"I don't know," I say.  "How can you expect me to go in there and try to make these people like me all the while I'm going to be wondering which ones want to sleep with my baby sister?"  I'm working myself up and I'm struggling to fight off tears.  Damn pregnancy hormones! 

 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," Cinna says in a sad tone.  He reaches out to try to comfort me, but I bat his hand away.   I don't want to be touched right now.   I don't want to be here right now.  I don't want any of this.    

 

Effie sighs and crosses her arms.  "You really shouldn't have, Cinna.  I mean really!  You should have known better.  Now she's going to be an absolute disaster and we'll be lucky to get any sponsors at all."   She turns to me and bends down to look me straight in the eye.  "Listen to me, Katniss.  If you don't make an appearance, you're going to be dooming your sister and Peeta to death.   Those people in there are able and willing to help you so long as you give them a little something."

 

I press myself against the wall.    "You don't mean I'm going to have to sleep with them?" 

 

Effie snorts and throws her hands up in the air.  "Of course not!   That's not what they want from you.   They want to know how their contributions will make the love story they're watching on television come true.  They want to feel like they are an integral part of the Games.  You've gotten a good start with the poll to name the baby - I suspect we'll be getting several small donations from people who've got a stake in giving your child their favorite name.  But we need more, a lot more."

 

Cinna lays a hand on the escort's shoulder.  "Effie, you're scaring her." 

 

She sighs again and straightens up.  "I suppose this is a lost cause.   I'll just go in there and announce you aren't feeling well and the doctors have prescribed lots of rest.  It might salvage things so we don't lose the sponsors we've already gotten to commit."  She sounds dejected, like she honestly wants Peeta and Prim to win.  

 

So I ask her.  "Why are you trying so hard?  It's not like Peeta or Prim matters to you."

 

Effie takes a step back and her eyes widen in shock.  She gapes at me for several moments then blinks her eyes rapidly and looks away.  "That's just not true.   I care deeply about what happens to Prim and Peeta."  She actually looks hurt, but that could just be the makeup.

 

I don't let up.  I need to know more.  "But why?  Is it because you want a better District?"

 

"A different District would be nice," she admits.  "But it's not the only reason I want them to win and I don't think it's any business of yours what my reasons are.  Especially not when you're going to be so rude about it." 

 

I turn to Cinna.  "What about you?  Why are you helping out so much?"  I am wary of them now.   The revelation that the Capitol sees the victors as sex objects has shaken me to my core.   I don't know what is worse, Prim dying in the Arena or Prim being forced into sexual slavery.   And no matter what happens it's going to be my fault.  I should be the one in there, not her.  And if it weren't for this pregnancy, I would be.

 

"It's not your fault, Katniss.   It's not Prim's fault, either.  We all know whose fault this is."  He and Effie share another look and I want to yell at them to stop it and tell me what they are communicating silently with each other.   After a few seconds of silent communication, Cinna sighs.  "As for why I'm helping out so much, that's actually pretty straightforward.  It's the right thing to do, Katniss.  Every child put into the Arena deserves the opportunity to come home, and for a long time District Twelve wasn't getting that.  I wanted to help in what way I could.  I still do." 

 

"How can I trust you?"  I tighten my hands over my stomach and realize that I've been guarding it subconsciously. 

 

"There's nothing I can say that will make you believe me.  All I can do is hope that my actions will speak for me," Cinna says earnestly.

 

"I mean really!  After everything that we've done, I don't know how you can question our motives.  Why I've been talking to everyone I know about your sister and Peeta and doing everything in my power to make sure that we can get sponsors.  Why I've managed to secure over twenty thousand coin in promised funds," Effie huffs.

 

It's a lot of money and I goggle at the amount.  "But why haven't they gotten any parachutes other than the one I paid for Haymitch to send?"

 

"They haven't needed anything.  Well, other than burn creme and that got taken care of before we had the funds to send it to them," Effie answers.   "With their alliance, Haymitch and I felt it best to save the money for when things are more desperate or we're closer to the end of the Games."

 

"But why are you so insistent we need more sponsors if we have so much money?"  Twenty thousand coin could buy the entire Seam and still have some left over.  It's more money than the miners make in five years of work.

 

"It isn't that much money.  Not this late in the Games.   And the alliance your sister has with the other tributes has to end sometime and with the destruction of the supply pile food, medicine, and weapons are now a very limited quantity," Effie explains efficiently.  

 

I want to ask her how she knows so much.  Why she seems so different from the Effie I'm used to seeing on stage at the Reaping, but I don't.   I don't know if it matters.   Cinna is right, there's nothing they can say that will make me trust them.  But so far both of them have been honest with me about what the Capitol expects and what is going on.  I may not know their motives, but their actions have been to make sure Peeta and Prim come home alive.  

 

I lean against the wall and try to compose myself.  I stroke my stomach and wonder if my little girl will have to go through this.  Probably.   If Peeta makes it out of the Games, from what I know about the Capitol's love for legacy tributes, she's going to be reaped.  It won't matter that she really isn't Peeta's, they don't know that.  She's going to go into the Games.  The real question is when.  

 

"Katniss, are you going to be able to do this?" Cinna asks after a few moments.

 

"I don't know," I repeat.  I'm trying to calm myself down.  To put on a mask that I can show to the potential sponsors, but inside all I want to do is run back to District Twelve and hide out in the woods where I feel safe.      

 

Effie steps in, her voice back to the cheerful chirping I'm used to.  "Would it help if I came with you?  I could introduce you to the people that have already pledged money to help.  You wouldn't need to do anything but say thank you."

 

I nod, grateful for the suggestion.  "I think I could do that."

 

"And if it gets too much," Cinna adds, "we can excuse you on account of your pregnancy."

 

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders.  "Let's do this."

 

Effie leads me back in and to a small group of people off to one side.   She introduces them to me as Undersecretary Antonius and his wife Scribonia.  Scribonia coos and places her hands on my stomach and I have to fight my reaction to smack her away.  I don't like people touching me without permission but a warning cough from Effie restrains me. 

 

Antonius and Scribonia were early supporters of Prim, not Peeta, they tell me.  Apparently Prim reminds them of their little girl at home and the warmth and love with which they speak of their daughter, Antonia, is genuine.  

 

A real smile comes to my lips and I ask them about their daughter and find out that she wants to be a doctor when she grows up, just like Prim.   Their obvious pride is nice. They may look ridiculous with elaborately dyed hair and painted nails, but their love for  their daughter is real.   I'm grateful that Effie started with this pair.   I chat with them for about ten minutes, during which Scribonia promises to send me Antonia's old baby clothes and crib, no matter the result of the Games.   Part of me doesn't want to accept her charity, but I don't want to offend the woman.   Effie steps in to say she'll make the arrangements and excuses me.

 

"How much did they promise?" I ask after we get out of earshot.  

 

"Two thousand if she made it to the top twelve, which they've already delivered on.  With another five thousand if Prim makes it to the final four," she answers.

 

"That's a lot of money for someone who reminds them of their daughter," I observe, wondering what the catch is.

 

Effie enlightens me.  "I wouldn't be surprised if, if Prim wins, that at some point they requested Prim be a companion to their daughter.  Not in a sexual way, but as a friend. Children of powerful and politically connected families don't have a lot of real friends. You actually get more honesty out of a 'hired' friend than your peers."  Her voice seems distant for a moment then returns to its normal tone.  "If the two girls work out well together, I might be able to negotiate a long term contract where they'd be her exclusive patron.  Even allow Prim to attend the medical university here."

 

"They'd do that?" I ask, stunned at the implications.

 

"They are both very powerful and it is rumored that Antonius is thinking of a presidential run. It wouldn't hurt to be on their good side," she replies.

 

I find myself agreeing with the pink wigged woman.  

 

She leads me to one of the viewing areas and has me sit down before signaling one of the nearby servants to bring us both something to drink.   There isn't anyone watching the Games at this time so we're alone for the moment.

 

When the white-clad woman returns, Effie hands me a glass with some kind of pale yellow liquid with bubbles in it.   "It's sparkling apple juice," she tells me.  "From District Seven. It's non-alcoholic but no one needs to know that."

 

"Thanks.  I'm not a fan of alcohol.  It tastes funny."  I don't tell her that it also goes straight to my head and I start losing whatever good sense I possess.  

 

Effie smiles.  "I agree with you.  I've always wondered how Haymitch could stand the taste of it.   But I guess after so many years of drinking he's lost his discerning palate."

 

"Who is next?" I want to know. 

 

Effie rattles off a list of people while surreptitiously indicating them with a tilt of her head or a point of her finger.   I'll be honest, I can't keep who everyone is straight and I'm glad that Effie's there to help me.  

 

We get back up and rejoin the crowd and for the next hour I'm shuttled from sponsor to sponsor. All of these people have pledged to help my sister or Peeta or both. All of them are pleased to meet with me and discuss their impressions of the Games so far.   I have a hard time keeping my cool at times, especially when someone insists on touching my stomach or giving me a kiss on the cheek.   After each encounter, Effie takes me to someplace where I can calm down and get something to eat or drink.   I'm glad she understands I need a break in between meetings.  She also uses the time to fill me in about the next person we'll be speaking with so I don't make any mistakes and say something inadvertently offensive.  Whatever her motivations, she's clearly doing her job to the best of her ability.

 

We're eating a few pastry wrapped snacks when a flurry of activity near the entrance captures our attention.  A few Peacekeepers enter and take up positions on either side of the door.  Then several more white-clad enforcers enter the room and block off the other doors leading into the room.  

 

I glance nervously at Effie.  What's going on here?

 

Effie shakes her head.  She doesn't know.

 

I get my answer a few moments later when the door is held open and President Coriolanus Snow enters.   There are several excited gasps from around the room but I'm nervous.   My stomach is churning so badly that I'm afraid that my sparkling cider and appetizers will make a reappearance.  

 

The president is shorter than I expected, but then I realize that I've only ever seen him on the TV screen and they must do some kind of editing to make him appear larger than life.   He's got white hair and his eyes are cold and reptilian.   Unlike most of his subjects, he doesn't have any outlandish tattoos or makeup and his clothes, while obviously well-made, are very simple by Capitol standards.  The only affectation I can make out is a dark red rose on his lapel.  

 

President Snow pauses upon entering and his eyes survey the room until they light on me.   I feel a jolt of fear run through me when some emotion I can't identify flashes behind those snake-like eyes.  

 

He walks toward me, stopping briefly to exchange a few pleasantries with the various assorted sponsors along his route.   He's flanked by two huge Peacekeepers and a small, weedy woman carrying a clipboard who is clearly a secretary of some kind.

 

Coming to a stop before Effie and me, he waves off the two Peacekeepers.   When one moves to protest, he says, "Please, I will be quite safe.  I am certain neither Miss Trinket nor Miss Everdeen mean me any harm.  Do you, my dears?"

 

"Of course not!" Effie says quickly.

 

The smell of the rose in his lapel assaults me as I shake my head.  The scent is somehow wrong from that of a normal rose.  Like it's been drenched in blood.  I struggle to keep from gagging.  

 

"See, Martinus?  You have nothing to fear," he says smoothly to the Peacekeeper who protested.

 

The Peacekeeper, Martinus, steps back but rests one hand on the firearm holstered on his hip.   It's a clear warning.  Take one step out of line and face the consequences.

 

"I hope you don't my coming unannounced, Miss Trinket, to your little meet and greet.  But I quite wanted to meet Miss Everdeen here." 

 

"Of course not, sir.  If I'd known you were interested in attending, I would have extended you an invitation personally."  There's a hint of something in Effie's tone that I can't place.  "We're so so so very honored to have you attend our little tete-a-tete.  Is there something I can get you, sir?"

 

Snow smiles.  It isn't a pleasant sight.  Those blood red lips stretched across yellow teeth, I'm again reminded of a predator sizing up its prey.   "A moment of Miss Everdeen's time is all I require.  Thank you."

 

Effie bobs a little curtsey.  "Of course, sir."  She steps away but not before shooting me a look of warning.   It's unnecessary, I'm already wary of what the president's intentions are and am disinclined to make things worse.

 

Snow motions for his secretary to follow Effie and then clasps my elbow to lead me to a more secluded location in the room.   I struggle to contain a shudder when his cold hand makes contact with my flesh.  

 

"I hope you don't mind this little visit, Miss Everdeen," he begins, straightening his lapels.

 

Again, I'm assaulted by the stench of blood and roses mixed together and I swallow a few times to settle my stomach.  "Of course, I don't mind.  Effie is right.  It is an honor to have you here."  Granted it is an honor I would rather forgo, but I'm not about to tell him that.

 

"You strike me as an honest soul, Miss Everdeen.  So I propose that there be no lies between us.  Do you agree?"

 

I nod, not certain of his game.  Honesty is probably a good idea, I don't know what kind of information he has and I've got a hunch it'd be a bad idea to be caught in a lie.

 

"Good.  So how are you finding the Capitol?" he asks.

 

This is a question I can answer without any fear.  "A bit overwhelming, sir.  It's very different from District Twelve."

 

He smiles.  "Of course it is, my dear.  It's been quite a while since I've visited your district, I'm wondering if that's not been a mistake now."

 

I tilt my head in confusion but don't say anything.   I don't want to say something that could be taken the wrong way.

 

"Has everyone here been treating you well?" he asks next.

 

"Everyone's been pleasant to me for the most part," I answer.

 

He raises an eyebrow.  "'For the most part?'"

 

I sigh.  Of course, he would focus on that.  "The doctor I saw this morning.  She was a little short with me."

 

"Ah, yes," he says with a nod.  "I read Dr. Hyde's report.  Low body weight of both the fetus and mother.  Signs of malnutrition and bone loss.  She was most adamant that the mother, you, stop starving herself to maintain her figure.  She was a little surprised you'd managed to stay pregnant without serious complications."

 

I stiffen.  It's not like I wanted to starve myself!  "I didn't know it was that bad," I say instead.

 

"I know, my dear.  It's really most fortunate I thought of having the final eight tributes' families come to the Capitol.   Without it, who knows what would have happened?"  That sounds like a threat. 

 

"I appreciate all of the care I've been given here," I answer.  "It's more than we have available back in Twelve."

 

"Yes, I can see how a lack of adequate medical care can make things difficult.  We'll have to do something about that," he says, as if to himself, but I know that isn't the case and I wonder what he has planned.  He smiles at me.  "However, that isn't why I wished to speak with you."

 

"Oh?"

 

"I caught your interview with Caesar earlier.   It was very moving." He pauses and fixes me with that reptilian gaze of his.  "How much of it was true?"

 

My heart starts racing and I know I'm in trouble.  "I'm not sure what you're asking, sir." I say to stall for time and to try to figure out what parts he thinks are lies.  

 

"No, perhaps you don't.  Maybe I need to ask a different question."  He shifts slightly toward me.  "Does Peeta know he's not the father of your child?"  His reptilian eyes are intent, taking in my every reaction.

 

Crap!  One of the tests I was subjected to earlier must have been a paternity test or something like that.  "He knows," I answer in a small voice.

 

Snow blinks. "And he still loves you and is willing to sacrifice himself for your happiness.  He truly is a remarkable young man."

 

I straighten.  "Yes, he is.  He didn't have to promise to watch out for Prim but he did because he's a good person!"

 

"So quick to defend him," Snow murmurs.  "Perhaps I was wrong about your feelings for him."

 

Again, I don't say anything.  

 

"Is it true that your parents oppose your relationship?" he asks next.  

 

This is something I can answer truthfully. "His mother hates me, sir.  She always has and she hates my mother even more."

 

"Why is that, do you think?"

 

"She thinks Mr. Mellark is in love with my mother," I answer.

 

"And why would she think that?" he wants to know.

 

"Because he was before they were married.   But my mother married my father instead."  I'm trying to keep my answers short and to the point.  To not give him any more information than I absolutely have to, but it's hard.

 

He tilts his head to one side.  "Your father was a coal miner, correct?"

 

"Yes," I answer and then fill in what I'm sure will be the next question. "He was killed in a mine explosion when I was eleven."  I'm sure it's in whatever file he has on me.  

 

Snow nods his head.  "I remember that.  And I seem to recall from your interview that it was after that tragic event when you claim that Peeta Mellark saved your life."

 

"He did," I say and then elaborate because it seems to be needed.  "I didn't want to say it in front of all of Panem but he burned the bread on purpose so he could give it to me.  And his mother beat him because of it."

 

Snow turns to regard Mrs. Mellark thoughtfully.  "Did she?  Poor Peeta.  That had to be difficult for him growing up."

 

I shrug.  "I guess."

 

"So how did you feel about our little rule change, Miss Everdeen?"  I sense a trap but I'm not really sure where.

 

"I was happy about it."  I don't know what else to say.   It's true, I was happy because it improved Prim's chances for survival but I don't think saying that would be a good idea.  I have a hunch that every word I say is going to be used against me at some point in the future.

 

"Please excuse my forwardness, but before the announcement which one of them were you hoping would come home?"

 

I know that my sponsorship contribution is on record.  "You're right, that is forward," I say, stalling for time to think up an answer that doesn't sound as damaging as the unvarnished truth.  

 

"It is.  Your answer, please," Snow insists, his eyes peering at me intently.  

 

"My sister," I say finally.  "She volunteered for me.  For my baby.   It'd be disloyal for me to hope she died in the Arena."  Then, I add to try to soften the blow.  "But, if she didn't make it, I'd want Peeta to come home.  He deserves it too.  And I'm glad that I don't have to make that choice."

 

"Indeed, you do not."  He smiles at me.  "I appreciate this little talk.  It's been most enlightening.   I wonder, though, what you'd be willing to do to make sure your sister comes home." 

 

The words slip out before I can stop them.  "I'd do anything."

 

He purses those red lips of his and the smell of blood gets worse.  "I do believe you would, Miss Everdeen.  I shall hold you to that."

 

Oh no, what have I just agreed to? 

 

My horror must show on my face because President Snow reaches out and pats me on the shoulder.   "Don't be afraid, my dear.  I promise I shall not ask you to do anything unpleasant."

 

That isn't very comforting. 

 

"Indeed," he continues.  "I am quite taken with your little drama.  It's a most entertaining story.  Even if that is all that it is.  It's quite generous of you to include us in it."

 

"You're referring to my allowing the Capitol to help Peeta and me name the baby?"

 

"Quite so.   I think I may have to participate in this drama," he smiles down at me.  "I am very taken with the name Virgilia."

 

I think it sounds like a horrible name, but I don't say so.  Instead, I reply, "I can't play favorites, sir.   You'll have to go through the same steps as everyone else who's invested in naming my baby."

 

"How very democratic of you, Miss Everdeen," he murmurs. 

 

I'm not sure if he meant it as a compliment or not, but I'm going to act like I think it was.  "Thank you, sir.   I do want to be fair, but like I said in my interview, I'll only give my child the name the Capitol picks if Peeta and Prim make it home."

 

Snow chuckles.  "Very intelligent of you to do so, Miss Everdeen.  And very sneaky.     I'll need to remember that.  Still, it was wise of you not to promise something without getting something equally precious in return."  He pauses.  "Well, if I cannot influence your choice of name, then I shall endeavor to assist your sister and young Mr. Mellark in their struggles in the Arena."

 

"Sir?" I'm confused.  Is he saying what I think he's saying? 

 

He turns away from me and raises his voice.  "Miss Trinket, could you join us for a moment?"

 

Effie bobs a nod and minces over to where the president and I are standing.   "How can I help you?" she asks, her eyes flitting back and forth from the president to me.  I shake my head, I don't know what he's planning to do either.  

 

"Miss Trinket, I would like to sponsor both Primrose Everdeen and Peeta Mellark from District Twelve in the amount of thirty thousand coin."  He pauses dramatically.  "Each."

 

"Sixty thousand?" Effie gasps.   "Sir!  I don't know what to say.  The honor you've done us.   When they emerge from the Arena, I'll make sure to let them know of your generosity!"

 

"Please, Miss Trinket, do not make a fuss on my account.  I am simply a citizen of the Capitol throwing my support behind my favorite tribute, or tributes in this case."

 

"Still, the honor," she breathes, then stops herself.  She straightens.  "I'll get the paperwork together for you."

 

He waves his hand.  "No need, Miss Trinket, I've taken the liberty of already having it drafted up."  He motions to the weedy woman who'd accompanied him.   "Ms. Reed, if you would be so kind?"

 

The woman removes a few sheets of paper from the top of her clipboard and hands them to the President.  

 

He glances at them briefly and then holds them out to Effie.  "I believe everything is in order."

 

The bewigged escort accepts the papers and peruses them intently, her lips drawing into a fine line.   After a few minutes, she nods and says, "Thank you, Mr. President.  I'll make sure it's put to good use."

 

"That's all I ask, Miss Trinket."  He turns back to me.  "See, my dear, I really am invested, quite literally, in your sister and lover's survival.  I do hope you will consider my request.  Virgilia is a lovely name."

 

I nod dumbly, not trusting myself to speak.   Sixty thousand coin.  I can't even imagine a sum that large and President Snow's just thrown it out there like it was pocket change.  

 

He excuses himself and starts to make a circuit around the rest of the room.  

 

Effie and I stare after him.   Just what kind of game is he playing? 

 

All I know is I don't want to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written: 7/6/13  
> Revised: 8/15/13
> 
> Beta Read (twice!) by RoseFyre
> 
> Got to love President Snow. He was such a fun character to write. No stuff from the Games themselves but I don't think this chapter needed it. There was a lot of other stuff going on.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty Two**

 

After Snow's visit, I don't have the ability to handle any more socializing.   All of my charm, all of my diplomacy is sapped.   All I can think about is that exorbitant sum and that if Prim and Peeta survive the Arena that I'll be in debt to Snow.   I also can't shake the feeling that I've told him something damaging and dangerous.  I'm not a politician, I'm just a girl from the Seam who's managed to get entangled in something bigger than me.

 

Effie luckily seems to understand that I've reached my limit and sends a servant off to fetch Cinna.   She escorts me to the limousine, all the while trying not to let her dismay show on her face.  She's not completely successful; her painted lips are fixed into a smile that is more grimace than grin and her entire posture is tense.

 

She's as nervous about Snow's contribution as I am and I'm a little confused by her reaction.  She's a citizen of the Capitol.  She's one of Snow's people.   She should be elated by the amount and the endorsement.  But instead she's clearly fearful.   I wonder why.

Cinna joins us a few minutes later and the three of us take the short trip back to the Training Center in relative silence.   Cinna informs Effie that he's instructed Portia to bring the rest of the Twelve contingent home in an hour, but that it would look odd if we all left the party at once.   Effie nods, but doesn't say anything.  I can tell she's thinking by the way her hands keep fidgeting with the fingers of her lace gloves.  

 

It's a little after nine when we get back to Twelve's tribute quarters.   I want to go to bed despite the hour, but Effie and Cinna make me eat a full dinner and take the vitamins that Dr. Hyde prescribed.   While we're eating, or rather the two watch me eat while they have a drink, Effie goes over what is planned for the rest of the Games.

 

Tomorrow morning I will be allowed to have to myself.  After lunch, someone yet to be determined and a camera crew will collect all of us from Twelve's quarters and take us on a tour of the Training Center.   She tells us we'll be able to see the training stations and she's even managed to convince one of the instructors to come in and give a demonstration.   Then we're going to have dinner with the victors who are not actively mentoring.  

 

The next day, assuming the Games aren't over, we're going to be taken to the mentor station in the morning where we will meet with Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane and see what the mentors actually do, also assuming that Seneca can join us.  After that, we'll be allowed to either watch the Games in a special viewing room where we can meet with various members of the public who have paid for the privilege some of whom might be willing to sponsor our tributes or we can watch the rest of the Games with the victors who aren't mentoring.   Both viewing rooms will be taped, of course, to be edited together into some kind of montage so the rest of Panem can see the Capitol's benevolence.  

 

I wonder what would happen if a family member didn't want to stay in the public eye, but decide that they'd be convinced to by something happening to their tribute. 

 

I go to bed and have strange dreams about President Snow escorting me all over the Capitol and showing me the various sights, all the while he's got Prim in a cage screaming to be let out.   I try to do something, but Snow just stops me with a wave of his hand and the words, "That isn't how the game is played, Miss Everdeen."

 

Suffice it to say, I don't sleep well.  I wake up and glance at the clock.  It's not even five in the morning.   I roll over and try to go back to sleep, but it's not happening.   Getting out of bed, I wander over to the window and look out at the Capitol below.   Most of the city is quiet, but here and there I can see pockets of people congregating and partying in front of large video screens showing the Games. 

 

After taking a shower and getting dressed in a simple outfit of pants and a loose shirt, I go to the food dispenser and order up a basket of assorted rolls with various spreads and a large cup of mint tea.   My stomach is still uneasy in the mornings, but it isn't as bad as it was the morning of the Reaping.  

 

Food in hand, I walk into the sitting room.   Unsurprisingly, there isn't anyone else awake.  I find the remote and turn on the television.    It's daylight where the Games are taking place, although from the angle of the sun it looks like it's still early in the morning whereever they are.  

 

The camera is focused on Cato and Clove.  The two of them have managed to find a hollow under a fallen tree, but they look miserable.   Cato is sleeping fitfully and I think his leg is likely bothering him and may be infected.   Clove is awake and is going through what little supplies they have.  

 

I'm not surprised to see that they have more weapons than actual survival gear.   Cato has his short sword, a little dinged up from the explosion but still deadly.   Clove has one full complement of throwing knives and another partially used one.   Two daggers, a hunting knife, and a few garrotes round out the rest of the weapons.   In addition to the backpack itself and Axel's sleeping bag and the dead boy's clothes, they have two water bottles both of which are empty, a bottle of iodine, a box of fifty waterproof matches, a plastic poncho for keeping off any rain, and a spool of wire.   Foodwise, they aren't in horrible shape with four cans of preserved meat, a tin of sardines, two boxes of soda crackers, and a large packet of dried fruit.   Sitting next to the food is what's left of the medicine kit sent by the sponsors, I can see packets of antiseptic creme and a few rolls of clean bandages. 

 

The girl finishes her cataloging and sits back on her heels.   She brushes the high ponytail holding her brown hair back and sighs.   She doesn't look happy.  She packs everything up except for her and Cato's weapons and some food:  a packet of crackers and the dried fruit.  

 

She shakes Cato awake.  "We need to get going," she says.  "We're out of water."

 

Cato nods and struggles to get out of the bedroll.   "Do we have a whetstone?" he asks after he is free.

 

Clove shakes her head and goes to roll up the sleeping bag.  "No whetstone.  No oil.  Only about two days worth of food.  Minimal weapons," she says listing off their supplies.   I'm surprised at her assessment that they only have two days worth of food.   That much could last me several days, possibly a week if I was frugal.  But then I realize that I'd be supplementing what was in the pack with what I could forage.   Being Careers, Clove and Cato don't know how to do that. 

 

"I think we should go back to the lake and fill up on water," Cato decides.   "If anyone investigated the explosion, they're likely gone now."

 

"We can't stay there," Clove warns.  "It's too exposed and we're too vulnerable.   We need someplace defensible."

 

The blond Career looks down as his leg.  "I'm sorry.  I'm slowing you down."

 

Clove seizes Cato's head between her hands and forces him to look at her.  "It. Is. Not. Your. Fault," she hisses, enunciating every word.  "That prick from Three did this.  You killed him.  We just have to soldier on.  Together."  She gives him a fierce kiss and he returns it happily.  

 

They eat their breakfast of crackers and fruit and set off back toward the clearing and the lake.   It's slow going, but they make decent time.

 

They stop about an hour later, and Clove checks Cato's wound.  It's pink and inflamed and oozing slightly.   She frowns and slathers antiseptic creme on it then wraps it with a fresh bandage.   She's right, they need to find someplace to hole up so Cato's wound is able to heal more.  

 

I eat my rolls and drink my tea, wondering why they haven't gotten more sponsorship gifts.   Probably the mentors waiting until they really need something.  Based on how much money Prim and Peeta have gotten, I'm sure that Cato and Clove have more and the medicine kit even with the inflated prices shouldn't have cleaned them out.

 

It takes them another hour to reach the edge of the clearing.   Cato is moving better than yesterday, but it's still slow going.   They emerge from the woods near the side of the clearing that's next to the steep cliff and the grain field beside it.   Clove looks over the edge of the cliff with a thoughtful expression on her face.

 

"Cato," she says.  "I think that's wheat down there."

 

"How can you tell?" he asks.

 

"I'd have to get a closer look," she admits.  "But it reminds me of the pictures my mother showed me when she was stationed in Nine."  I remember Clove's mother is a Peacekeeper and apparently she was stationed in the District responsible for providing most of Panem's grain.  I wonder absently where she's stationed now.   I hope not Twelve, because if Prim and Peeta win that would be awkward. 

 

Clove walks along the edge to see if there's an easy way down.   There isn't.  The cliff runs all the way out into the lake and even at its shortest, the escarpment is over an eight foot drop.   Where she's standing, the drop is over twenty five feet.   She eyes the drop and then looks back at Cato.  "Do you think you can swim?" she asks.

 

"What do you have in mind?" he wants to know.

 

She walks back over to where he's standing on the edge of the clearing leaning on a tree.   "I don't think you can climb down the cliff," she says.  "But I think we can get around the cliff by swimming around it to the other side."

 

Cato nods.  "We can try."

 

They cross the clearing to the edge of the lake.  There Clove strips down to her underwear and packs her clothes into the backpack.   She wades out into the lake and toward where the cliff enters the water.   When she reaches the edge, she feels around with one leg to gauge the depth. She frowns and then sits down on the edge.  She puts the back pack on top of her head and then eases herself over the edge.   The water comes up to her neck and I can see she's treading water.   Balancing the pack on her head, she slowly swims toward the shore.  

 

About twenty feet from the edge, she is finally able to put her feet down and walk up onto the small beach.    She empties the pack of its contents and fills up the empty water bottles and adds the iodine to purify the liquid.   Then she sets back for the other side and her waiting love.

 

Once there, she fills the pack with Cato's clothes, the bedroll and the weapons that Cato had on him.   She repeats her trip and when she reaches the other side, she leaves the pack entirely.    She gets back into the water but stumbles over some submerged rock or root. 

  
The cameras zoom in on something.  In the reeds near the drop off is a flash of movement under the water.   I wonder what it could be and I don't have long to wait.   The camera switches to an underwater view and I can make out a large torpedo-like shape that's about five feet long.   

 

Muttation.  

 

The thing has speckled skin that helps it hide in the freshwater lake.   Its head is shaped like some kind of lizard.  Its mouth, which opens and closes with the motion of its gills, is lined with sharp pointed teeth.   The early morning commentator identifies it as an alligator pike but I know that's just a name that the Capitol made up to make the muttation seem less unnatural.   The thing is a monster.

 

While the commentator has been talking about the alligator pike, Clove has recovered and is swimming back to where Cato waits.   She helps him into the water and to the edge of the cliff. 

 

As soon as Cato sits down in the water, the alligator pike seems to awaken.  It edges out of the reeds and toward the two Careers. 

 

The two teens aren't aware of the approaching muttation and are concentrating on making it to the shore.   Clove is on her back with a grip on one of Cato's arms and using her legs to propel them through the water. 

 

They're fifteen feet away from the edge of the cliff and twenty five feet from the shore when the alligator pike makes its attack. 

 

It charges the two Careers, making a beeline for their kicking legs. It misses with its mouth but manages to scrape Clove's right leg with the spines in its top fin.  

 

She screams and clutches at her injured leg.  

 

"Clove!" Cato cries. 

 

"We're under attack!" she yells back.  "We've got to get out of the water!"

 

Both teens double their pace, but it's not fast enough.  The muttation has doubled back for another attack and this time it's aiming for Cato.  

 

The fish scores a hit on the calf of Cato's injured leg and latches on.  Cato lets out a huge howl of pain and tries to free himself but the alligator pike isn't willing to let go.    Clove tries to help but she can't get the fish's jaws to budge.  

 

"I'm going for a knife!" she yells.  "Hang on!"  She swims as fast as she can to the shore and their supplies.   She sprints to where she emptied the pack on the first run and pulls out a hunting knife.  

 

She turns to see Cato struggling to keep his head out of the water.   She fixes the knife between her teeth and runs back into the lake.  

 

Out in the water, the mutt is trying to drag Cato further out into the lake and away from the safety of the shore.   The Career is fighting back, trying to find the fish's eyes or gills to get away.   He's not having much luck.  

 

And he's starting to tire.

 

Clove reaches him and grabs the knife out of her teeth.  She slips under the water and tries to find the base of the muttation's head.   When she finally does, she plunges the knife with all of her strength into the fish.  

 

The muttation goes wild, thrashing its body trying to get the knife that's wedged in its spine out.  Its top fin flares and catches the submerged girl in the gut, impaling her shallowly across her stomach.  But Clove's gambit worked, the fish let go of Cato.

 

The girl from Two pops to the surface and gathers in a deep breath.   She reaches out to Cato with one hand.   "Grab it!  I'll pull you to shore!"

 

He does, but I can see that his grip is weak.   That he's weak.  

 

Clove isn't much better, but she's somehow managing to pull strength from somewhere to drag the two of them through the water.   She reaches the point where she can put her feet down and shifts her grip on Cato to pull him up onto the shore.

 

He doesn't look good.   The hulking blond boy has gone pale and his lips have a bluish tinge to them.  I don't know if it's from the temperature of the water, blood loss, or both.

 

Clove gets him onto the shore and moves to inspect his leg.   The stitches she'd put in earlier have pulled and torn and the knife wound Axel gave him is bleeding sluggishly.   She frowns.   Then she examines his calf.   The bite is ragged and the muscle below is clearly visible under the skin.   The only bright side is it appears that the bite missed the major arteries.  The wound is bleeding, but it isn't gushing or pumping blood.   Still, Cato is in bad shape.  

 

The boy is awake and he and Clove manage to get him further up the beach.   Once again, the pack and bedroll are used to elevate the leg while Clove gets to work on healing Cato.   She doesn't bother rinsing the wounds with disinfected water but immediately goes to the pack and retrieves the medical kit from it.  She pulls out a curved needle and some thread.

 

"This is going to hurt," she tells Cato when she finishes threading the needle.

 

"Do it," he orders her.  "I'll be fine."

 

She does. 

 

The boy clenches his teeth and looks away from where Clove is working.   She sews up his thigh first before moving to his calf.   There, she works on the worst punctures before she finally runs out of thread.   There are still two fingertip sized holes in Cato's leg, but there isn't a lot she can do about it.  

 

She gets two packets of antibiotic creme, leaving only two remaining, and spreads it on both Cato's thigh and calf.   Then she wraps the wounds with the clean bandages, using them up.   It's not as good as my mother or Prim's work.  But it's pretty apparent that she's had some first aid training.   I guess that the Careers aren't just taught how to kill. 

 

"I don't think we should move very far," Clove decides.   "We can camp here for the day."

 

"We're pretty exposed," Cato points out.

 

"But who's going to be able to get us?" she retorts.   "If we move away from the cliff, no one can get the drop on us.   It's flat all around us and the lake is behind us.  It's not perfect, but it will do."

 

"We won't be able to light a fire without being spotted."

 

She shrugs.  "It's a chance we're going to have to take."

 

The girl sets up camp away from the edge of the lake and helps Cato get onto the bedroll.  She props up his leg with the pack and pulls on some of her clothing.  "I'm going to scout around.   See if I can find anything to eat or maybe a better place to camp."

 

"Don't go too far," he warns. 

 

"I'll stay within earshot," she promises.   She drops to her knees next to him.  "You've got to stop getting hurt.  I can't stand seeing you hurt.  It tears at my heart."

 

He reaches up and brushes back a strand of wet hair from her forehead.  "Now you know how I felt after the bloodbath."

 

She hugs him tightly, placing her head against his bare chest.   "I love you," she whispers. 

 

He strokes her wet head.  "I love you too," he replies.

 

"Well, isn't that just disgusting!" Mrs. Mellark's voice cuts through the air, startling me out of the Games. 

 

I turn to see Mrs. Mellark and Mr. Mellark standing near the steps leading to the raised dining area.  I apparently was so engrossed in the Games I didn't hear them come in.  Some hunter I am.  

 

I don't bother asking what Mrs. Mellark found disgusting.  It doesn't matter and it's not worth giving her any more ammunition.   But I give a small smile to Mr. Mellark, who returns it.  

 

"I saw your interview yesterday," he says.  "Thank you."

 

"I don't know what you're thanking that girl for, Matz.  All I saw yesterday was a girl making a fool of herself and our son."

 

The baker turns to her.  "But she also got over forty thousand coin in sponsors for him.  If that doesn't deserve thanks, I don't know what does."

 

Mrs. Mellark just sniffs and walks away. 

 

I nod my head at Mr. Mellark.  I appreciate him coming to my defense and I know he didn't have to do so.  

 

He comes over and sits down next to me and I see his eyes linger on the rolls in front of me.  "How are they?" he asks. 

 

I get the sense that he's not just asking about the bread but also the Games.  The screen is still showing the two Careers, so I ignore the television and focus on the man beside me.  "The bread isn't as good as the stuff your family bakes," I say and it's the truth.  The bread isn't as good.  "It's a little too flavorless to my taste.  These were just something to eat while I watched the Games and waited for everyone else to get up."

 

He nods.  "I noticed that too.  The lack of flavor, I mean.   I think it might be because their bread is mass produced in factories here.   I was talking to a man who owned the Marvel Bread Company last night, he tried telling me all about his efficient process and I kept thinking that all that efficiency leads to soullessness.   His bread doesn't have any heart to it.  It might be filling and make an acceptable sandwich, but it doesn't have any personality."

 

I nod and I get that he's not just talking about bread.  For all of their odd appearance, the citizens of the Capitol all have a sense of sameness about them.  The Careers are that way too.   One's tributes are all beautiful, well-spoken, and deadly.   Two's are ruthless, bloodthirsty, and hard.   Four's have a little more variety, but for the most part they are all strong, attractive, and good with spears and nets.  It's in the other Districts that you have the memorable tributes like Johanna Mason from Seven and Titus from Six.   "So do you think we can convince the Capitol that they don't need to have bland bread anymore?" I ask, referring to the Capitol's love of the Careers.

 

"I hope so.  It'd be nice to have a little variety.  But I think it's going to take a lot of convincing."  He reaches out and pats me on the hand.  

 

I nod.  It is going to take a lot of convincing to make the Capitol change its allegiance from Cato and Clove to Peeta and Prim.  

 

The announcer's voice becomes more excited and Mr. Mellark and I turn to look at the screen.   There's a little silver parachute coming down near where Cato is lying.   Clove isn't nearby, so the boy crawls the few feet to retrieve it.   He opens it to find a small bottle of pills.   The boy looks at it and tries to figure out what to do with it since there are no instructions or labels on the bottle or in the parachute container.   He opens the bottle and gives it a little sniff.  His brow wrinkles in confusion and he recaps it and places it down next to him.  

 

The commentator informs us that the sponsorship gift is a bottle of pain reliever/fever reducer/inflammation reducer rather than an antibiotic.   If I had to guess, the mentors don't think Cato's wound is serious enough for a heavy duty antibiotic or they're more concerned about the pain slowing him down than the infection killing him.   I don't think it's because they don't have the funds, although I could be wrong.  

 

My mother and Peeta's brother, Bing, join us next.  Farl is still sleeping and Mr. Mellark mentions that he's not been sleeping well ever since the Games started.   He lowers his voice and then says it's because he feels guilty.   Part of me thinks he should feel guilty, but the larger part understands how he feels.   If I could, I'd be in there for Prim, but I can't.   It's rare for people other than those in the Career Districts to volunteer for the Games and until this year, it had never happened in Twelve.  

 

Effie joins us and announces that breakfast has been laid out for us.  We join Mrs. Mellark who's already helped herself to the heaping piles of food on the sideboard.  If anything there's more food here than there was on the train.  Definitely too much for all of us to eat.  I wonder what happens to the uneaten food.  

 

Breakfast is an awkward affair with Mrs. Mellark sniping at my mother and me while Mr. Mellark and Bing try to distract her.   My mother ignores her and concentrates on her food.

 

As for me, I spend much of my time talking with Effie about what she actually does as the escort to District Twelve.  Apparently it isn't just selecting names from the Reaping Ball and accompanying two scared young kids on the train ride to their deaths.   As an escort, she is required to fill in when Haymitch is sick or sleeping.  She also attempts to drum up sponsors for her tributes, although that is more difficult with Twelve's losing streak.  She coaches the tributes in preparation for their interviews.   She keeps everyone on schedule, including the mentors.   She makes the arrangements for the coffins and shipment of the tributes' bodies back to their home District.  Finally, she helps select the stylists and prep teams.   Her duties actually increase if her District has a winner, since she's the one who plans the Victory Tour and all of the celebrations and parties that follow.   The position isn't as brainless as I thought.

 

After breakfast, I snag a few pieces of fruit and head back to watching the Games.  I'm joined by my mother and Farl when the latter gets up.   Bing decides to watch the Capitol from the balcony with Portia.  While Mr. and Mrs. Mellark head back into their bedroom to have an argument.   I don't know about what, but I can hear their raised voices through the closed door.   Effie excuses herself, saying that she's going to go give Haymitch a break.   

 

Not much really happens, although the Gamemakers do flip back to showing Prim's alliance.   I can see that the group is eating fairly well, using Prim's homemade nets to catch fish and Rue's ability to find edible plants.   The little girl from Eleven has even managed to kill an odd looking bird with her slingshot that is now roasting over a spit.   They haven't had to dig very far into the supplies that Peeta managed to get from the Cornucopia.   This is good.  The alliance is in better shape than the Careers, who will have to rely more and more on sponsorship gifts to get them through.  

 

We have a delicious lunch around noon of a delicately seasoned fish on top of mixed vegetables and rice.  It's simpler than many of the other meals that we've had here at the Capitol but it's still not as good as the lamb stew I had yesterday with Cinna.  

 

As we're finishing up our lunch, our camera crew and guides for the tour of the facilities arrive.   I'm a little surprised that they've corralled two victors into escorting us around but then realize that it's the perfect hook for the Capitol.  

 

The victors assigned to escort us around are Beetee Lee from Three and Cecelia Singer from Eight.   Beetee is an older man, about the same height as my mother with dark hair and eyes.   Cecelia is a pretty young woman with chestnut hair and brown eyes.  She's also heavily pregnant.  I try not to roll my eyes at the obviousness of the Capitol putting the two pregnant women together.   We'll make for thrilling television as we waddle all over the center and make use of every toilet we pass along the way.   

 

Cecelia seems to understand this because she gives me a wry smile and goes to use a toilet off of the dining area that Cinna hadn't mentioned when he gave his tour yesterday. "Just in case," she whispers to me as she passes.  I like her and try to remember which Games she won. 

 

Beetee smiles at us and introduces himself.  I find out that he won the Thirty-Sixth Hunger Games and remember that he's one of the few victors to have patrons that don't as for sexual favors.  

 

Cecelia returns from the restroom and greets the group, "Sorry about that, I'm due in about a month and I swear when I'm not sleeping, I'm peeing.  I'm Cecelia, winner of the Sixty-Fourth Hunger Games, aka the Games that everyone forgets because Finnick Odair won the year after me."  Everyone chuckles at that and my impression of her improves.  

 

The cameraman signals we should get a move on.   Beetee takes the lead and explains that other than elevation all of the tribute quarters are laid out exactly the same so that none of the tributes gets an advantage in that respect.  He also explains that the tower was constructed in the three months leading up to the Fiftieth Games, when the Capitol realized it was going to have double the tributes in attendance.   Until then, the tributes were housed in smaller suites in the rooms that now make up the service areas of the Training Center.

 

It's all fairly dry and boring.   We're not allowed to see where the kitchens, laundries, and various other support areas are.   We aren't allowed in the other Districts' Quarters.  We aren't allowed really much of anywhere.

 

While we walk, Cecelia chats with me.  She asks how far along I am and then relates stories about her other three pregnancies.  This is her fourth one and she's already told her husband that she's done.   "I may be a victor," she confides in me, "but I'm still only human." 

 

"I think I would have stopped after the first," I say.  "I can't imagine having four kids."

 

Cecelia looks over at me, her brown eyes serious.  "I used to think that too when I was your age.   I never thought I would have kids.  But if you can find the right person and the time's right, having children is the most natural and wonderful thing in the world.   But it's got to be on your terms and at your time."

 

"How long did it take you to want to have kids?" I want to know.

 

"Honestly?  It wasn't until after my eldest was born.  Victors are encouraged to have children, you know."  There's something about the way she says 'encouraged' that makes me shiver.  "After Callie was about four months old, I realized I wanted another child.  Not just for me, so my little girl could know what it was like to have a sibling's love."  She pauses and then smiles at me.  "But I'm sure you know all about that."

 

I nod.  Yeah, I know all about that. It's why it's Prim in the Arena and not me.    

  
We take the elevator to the basement and the main training room, a large room with a viewing platform off to one side and a dining room on the other.   Once inside, Beetee and Cecelia take us from station to station explaining what each one is.  Some are obstacle courses designed to improve reflexes and speed.  Others are survival stations that include camouflage design and edible plant identification.   The victors take turns explaining that each station is manned by an expert to provide training and guidance for the three days that tributes train.  I'm a little disappointed that the experts aren't here now.  I'd like to know what kind of edible plants are in the Arena.

 

We wrap up our tour at the main weapons station.  Here, there are weapons of all shapes and sizes on racks.   Set up in the training area are several dummies, some of which move while others stand still.   Unlike at the previous stations we'd been shown, there is an instructor here.   This must be the man Effie mentioned last night.   

 

He's a heavily muscled man with short cropped hair and a Peacekeeper-like demeanor.   I'm immediately on edge around him.   We're joined at the station by the other remaining tributes' family members and their escorts, Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta, Finnick Odair, and Blight Carpenter.  

 

Immediately, Cato and Clove's families step up to take a turn.  Cato apparently only has a mother who looks to be in her mid-forties.  The way she's built reminds me of the miners back home in Twelve.   She picks up a sword and swings it around experimentally.   She's clumsy, but the instructor corrects her grip.   Clove's parents, on the other hand, try out some of the various staves and spears.   Clove's father is able to wound a practice dummy in the leg with a thrown spear  Her mother is much more accurate, but I imagine that is because of her Peacekeeper training.   She hits the dummy numerous times with her thrown spears and it's clear where Clove got her hand-eye coordination from.  

 

The instructor invites the rest of us to join and a few of us take up the offer.   Mrs. Mellark tries out a sword but drops it when she goes to attack a training dummy, shaking her hand at the recoil.   A couple of Rue's little brothers do an impromptu sword fight with two wooden batons.  It's cute until the younger one whacks the older on the shin.  The nine year old cries out and drops his wooden baton in favor of his fists.  Rue's parents move in quickly to separate the two.

 

To distract the group and the cameras from the two crying children, Mr. Mellark and Bing try to encourage me to take up one of the bows hanging on the rack on the wall.   I demur, not wanting to show off.   I'm also nervous about letting the Capitol know what I can do.  

 

However, I change my mind a few minutes later after Clint's parents take the stage.   They do a pretty amazing demonstration of lassoing dummies with a coil of rope.  If Clint is half as good as his parents, then that would go a long way to explaining his high score in training.  

 

While Winnow and Rue's parents are trying out various bladed weapons, I step up and take a bow and arrows from the wall and walk over to the shooting range.   The tension and grip are different than I'm used to and I take several practice pulls to acclimate myself to the new weapon.   When I think I'm ready, I nock an arrow and pull it back.   I clear my mind and narrow my focus to my target, a dummy about fifty feet away.   Taking a deep breath, I release my arrow.   It hits a little off center from the target, but it's not too bad.   At least I didn't miss the target.

 

I notch another arrow and take sight again.   This time the arrow is right on target.  There's a smattering of applause behind me but I'm not happy.   It's too easy to hit a stationary target.   I move to the shooting range that has the moving dummies and try my luck there.   One.  Two.  Three. Three arrows and I have three kills right through the eye.   Too easy.  

 

"Katniss!" someone calls my name and I turn to see Finnick Odair holding a few bird decoys from one of the other training stations.

 

I smile and nod.  That is more like it.  

 

He throws one fake bird up in the air and I quickly shoot it down, again it's too easy.   He tosses another bird then a few moments later another bird.  The game goes on with Finnick lobbing the birds up into the air and me shooting them down until I run out of arrows.  

 

A loud round of applause startles me and I turn around to find everyone watching me.   Mr. Mellark, Farl, Bing, Finnick and Rue's siblings are all sporting huge grins and clapping enthusiastically.  Most of the rest of group are sporting expressions of varying degrees of surprise and awe and are clapping kind of methodically.   My mother is frowning slightly but clapping as well.  She knows how good I am, but I've just revealed to the Capitol my skill and there isn't an easy or good explanation about how I've managed to gain that skill.  

 

As for Mrs. Mellark, she's standing staring at me with her hands clenched in rage.   I don't know why.  I know she dislikes me, but this hatred that I'm feeling right now is something else.   Something more than just her youngest son liking me.  

 

Then, all of a sudden it hits me, she's not angry with me.  She's jealous.   And that's even more dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written 7/9/13 as part of Camp NaNoWriMo  
> Revised 8/19/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> I can hear what you're saying. Just get on with the Games. And I will, but there's a lot of stuff I need to cover in the mean time and I don't like to rush things so that you're left feeling incomplete and unsatisfied. 
> 
> I've fully written one side story to this. Unfortunately I can't publish it until quite a distance in the future. I've also started on a side story to this featuring Gale. Now here you have one of two options. You can either get it after this fic finishes since it deals with his reactions to everything through the end of this and a little beyond. Or you can have me break it up and start publishing it now in chapter format. Fair warning, the chapters will be shorter than this story's but they will be over 1000 words per (at least). So it's up to you and what you want, my lovely and awesome readers.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty Three**

 

The realization that Mrs. Mellark is jealous of me but also of my whole family stuns me.   In her eyes, her family likes mine more.  Her husband is in love with my mother.  Her youngest son is in love with me.   Everyone likes my little sister.   And no one likes her.   Not that she's given them any reason to, in my opinion.  But I can see the resentment and jealousy in her eyes.  She hates my family in the same way that I hate the Capitol and I'm a little concerned about what she might do. 

 

I tear my gaze away from Mrs. Mellark and put the bow and empty quiver of arrows away.  Mrs. Mellark isn't important, getting through the rest of these Games is.  

 

When I return to the group, a few of the victors get up to demonstrate their skills.   Johanna is first with her axe.  She's good and a little scary, if I'm honest with myself.  

 

"That was some show you put on there," a deep husky voice says into my ear.  

 

I turn to see Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta standing next to me.   "Thanks.  And thanks for the help earlier," I say, referring to Finnick's tossing of decoys into the air for me to hit. 

 

"It was Annie's suggestion," he answers, motioning to the pretty brown haired woman with striking green eyes standing next to him.

 

Annie smiles at me vaguely.  "It looked like you needed help.  Finnick is good at helping."

 

I'm not really sure what I can say to that, so I ask, "Are either of you going to give us a demonstration?"

 

"They'd probably crucify me if I didn't," Finnick says ruefully.  "My skill with my trident is well known."  I can hear the double meaning in that phrase and it makes me uncomfortable. 

 

Annie comes to my rescue with her answer.  "I don't like fighting even for pretend.  It brings back too many bad memories."

 

Finnick looks over at the weapons demonstration and then down at her, his concern written all over his handsome features.  "Do you need to go back to our quarters?" he asks her.

 

She shakes her head.  "I should be okay."  She smiles up at him.  "I'd rather be here with you while I can."  I feel like there's a deeper meaning to her words than I'm able to interpret but it's not any of my business. 

 

I'm about to turn back to watching the demonstrations when Finnick's voice stops me. "How did you learn to shoot like that?"

 

I shake my head and point to the cameras and the rest of the group.  I don't want to talk about it when someone can hear.  And I don't want to talk about it to someone I barely know at all.   It's one thing to trap and kill game, it's another thing entirely to shoot it.  Shooting it means I have a bow and bows aren't allowed in the Districts.  My father was always careful to caution me that our weapons could never be seen and I've followed that rule.  

 

Finnick seems to understand because he lets it drop.    Annie picks up the conversation and asks me how far along I am.   There's a wistfulness to her expression and I sense that she wishes she were in my shoes.   I also sense that she would like the baby to be Finnick's.   I feel sorry for her.   Because of the Capitol's love for the bronzed victor from Four, she's unlikely to get her wish.  

 

The demonstration winds to a close and we head to a large banquet hall in another portion of the Training Center.   Beetee tells us this hall is used by mentors before the start of the Games to try to drum up sponsors for their tributes.   The morning of the Games, before they start, there's a large breakfast held there and at various key points during the Games there are other events.   The next one is scheduled for tomorrow morning after the final tribute odds come out. 

 

The room is decorated with stylized portraits of past victors: Enobaria Idocrase from Two with blood dribbling down her chin and her opponent at her feet with his throat ripped out; Johanna Mason with a partially torn shirt with her final opponent pinned to a tree with an axe in his head; Finnick Odair holding a trident with one foot on a netted opponent.   It's just gruesome and disturbing. 

 

In the center of the room is a large table with flowers and candelabras on it.   I walk around the table, looking to find out which seat faces a portrait that is the least disturbing.   It's not easy.  The two end places have a little placard on them that reads 'reserved.'  Reserved for who, I wonder.  I finally settle on a chair near the far end that is opposite a victor whose name I can't remember fending off a mutated snake.   That must be the victor of one of the Games that the elements and Arena traps killed more tributes than the tributes themselves.   It happens about once every ten years or so.  The last time was Annie Cresta's year when a broken dam took out most of the remaining tributes and she only survived because she was the best swimmer.  

 

Speaking of Annie, I notice that Finnick isn't with her now when she sits down next to me on my right.   I raise an eyebrow in question.  "He had an appointment," she says in a sad tone of voice.

 

I don't press further.   I am assuming by appointment, she means Finnick had a rendezvous with some Capitol citizen.  Knowing what I do now and suspecting what I suspect, I feel sorry for the two of them.   

 

The rest of the group sit down and I note that we've picked up several other victors including the Capitol darlings Cashmere and Gloss Velvet.   An old woman comes and sits down next to Annie and my mother sits on my left.  Mrs. Mellark, seeing this, deliberately sits down at the place furthest from us.  The rest of her family follows her out of obligation.   I see Farl wanting to sit near the elegant and beautiful Cashmere who takes a seat opposite my mother.   

 

When we're all seated. the doors to the hall open and two flamboyantly dressed men walk in.   I recognize one right away as Claudius Templesmith, announcer for the Games and Caesar's co-anchorman.   The other, a dark haired man in his thirties sporting an elaborate beard, I don't know.  Although from the reactions of the victors around the table, they do.  

 

The other man is the first to speak.  "Good evening everyone, it really is a pleasure to see all of you gathered here.  Victors and family members alike.   It really shows me just how much the Games bring us together as a nation."  I try not to stare at him.  Does he really think that?  I look around me and I see I'm not the only one incredulous at his words.   He apparently doesn't notice or care about the people's reactions because he continues, "My name is Seneca Crane and I'm the Head Gamemaker this year."

 

He's the Head Gamemaker?  No wonder the victors all reacted to him. He's the one in charge of designing the Arena and overseeing the events happening in there.   This man literally has the power of life and death of my sister, along with every other tribute, in his hands.

 

He comes down to my end of the table and sits down with a warm smile at Cashmere.  She smiles back, but it's more polite than pleasant.   If I had to guess, he's got a crush on the beautiful victor but she only tolerates him because of his position.  

 

He picks up his glass, which is quickly filled by a waiting servant and taps one of his forks against it lightly.   Everyone turns to look at him.  "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like your attention, please."  As he says this, several servants come forward and pour a golden bubbling liquid into tall fluted glasses.  "In the spirit of Capitol/District unity, I want to make the following toast.  To the Games!"

 

Claudius takes up the toast.  "To the Games!"

 

Reluctantly the rest of us follow.  We're still being recorded by the cameras that have been following us all day and it's apparent to me that this whole dinner was staged.  I don't have a watch and there isn't a clock, but I bet that it's Mandatory Viewing right now.     

 

After the toast, the servants scramble forward and start bringing out the first course, a salad of cucumbers, tomatoes, some kind of soft cheese and two other vegetables I can't identify coated in a sweet and tangy sauce.  I like the cheese the most.  I study the two vegetables trying to figure out their origin.   One is soft and green and kind of tastes like butter.  The other is round and crisp on the outside and soft in the middle; it has more texture than flavor.  It's good, like most of the food here.  

 

Seneca sits back down and turns to my mother and me.  "So how did you like our training facilities?"

 

I'm not sure how to answer that and so I take a bite of food to try to stall.  How did I like the place where they sent my sister and all of the other tributes to prepare for their deaths?  It's not a question I can answer honestly.  

 

Thankfully my mother steps up.  "I thought it was interesting.  I especially liked the survival skills stations.  Medicinal plants are a bit of my family's specialty."

 

"Really!  Why that explains where your little girl got her plant knowledge from.  Did you know she was the first tribute we've had to correctly identify all of the edible plants?  She even knew the difference between wild carrot and hemlock without smelling the plants.  She's very talented."

 

"Thank you.  But your station had me thinking," my mother continues.  "Have you considered having a medicinal plant station?  I don't know about you, but I think that'd be really useful.  Take those two lovebirds from Two, their camp is right by several willow saplings.   I don't know why they don't just get the bark and make a tea for Cato.  It would help with his wound and the pain he has to be in.  They've also passed entire bunches of self-heal, which is both edible and if applied to wounds would help fight off infection and help heal the wound faster.  Prim used the plant on Peeta along with some plantain and cleavers."

 

Seneca stares at my mother, blinking rapidly.   I can tell that he's completely shocked that someone would critique the Games or suggest new features to be added. "That's a really interesting idea, Violet.  I can call you Violet, right?" he asks and at my mother's nod continues.  "We've focused on giving all of the tributes an equal chance and so try to teach them how to find food, water, and make shelters.  But if the tributes knew how to take care of themselves if they were hurt, that could be game changing.   In a good way," he adds quickly.  "It'd mean that those tributes injured early in the Games and who don't appeal to sponsors could take care of themselves and come back later to win.  It'd give the underdogs a chance."

 

"Exactly," my mother agrees.   "It'd make the Games more interesting."

 

"Indeed.  And everyone loves an underdog!  I'll have to bring it up at our next planning meeting once these Games are over.  Thank you for the idea!"

 

My mother smiles.  "You're quite welcome."

 

He directs his next question at me.  "What about you?  Any suggestions after taking the tour today?"

 

I shake my head.  I haven't thought about it and frankly I don't want to think about better and more efficient ways for the Capitol to kill children. 

 

"Oh surely you have something you'd like to see added." He turns to Cashmere and says, "Everyone does, you know?"

 

The former Career shrugs and turns back to her salad, separating the tomatoes from the rest of the food and then eating what's left.  I'm surprised to see someone from a District waste food like that, but then I remember she's a Career and from One.  She's probably never been hungry before her Games or since.  

 

Seneca ignores Cashmere's disinterest and looks back at me.  "You must have something you'd like to see added or changed."

 

I chew my food carefully and slowly, giving me time to think.   There are things I'd like to see changed, like the elimination of the Games entirely.  But I don't think that answer is going to go over very well.   I finally think of something that would help tributes like Prim have a better chance.  "I'd like to see a second Cornucopia or maybe little stashes of supplies hidden around the Arena."

 

He leans forward, pushing his salad out of the way.  "Go on."

 

"The problem with the main Cornucopia is that one group, usually the alliance of Districts One, Two and Four take command of it and dominate for the entirety of the Games.   It's a good strategy," I say to placate Cashmere, who's glaring at me, "but it gets boring after a while.   If you had a second Cornucopia or stashes of supplies hidden around you could end up with other tributes being contenders.  You wouldn't even necessarily have to tell the other tributes about it or you could, it's up to you.   But if you did say that there was another Cornucopia in the Arena you could end up with another bloodbath like on the first day as the tributes struggle to get supplies and gain control of that resource."  I pause to let that sink in a bit.  I'm not really shooting for another bloodbath, just another way to get supplies.  "On the other hand, you could go with the hidden stashes.  Even make maps to certain stashes available as sponsorship gifts.  It doesn't mean that they can't be found on their own, but I'm sure that Cato and Clove would love to have a secret stash about now."

 

"Interesting," Seneca says, leaning back in his chair.  "I can see the potential in your idea.  Especially once it was unveiled a tribute, like the boy from Eleven this year, would be even more of a powerhouse if he'd found a stash of something like body armor or a deadly weapon while someone like the girl would be more of a contender if she didn't have to worry about food or exposure."

 

"Exactly," I say.  "It'd change the Games and make them more interesting.   Not every tribute would be able to take advantage of that, but it would mean that the same districts wouldn't win year after year."

 

Cashmere is frowning at me and I can see she dislikes this idea intensely.  I struggle not to smirk in her direction.  The changes my mother and I are proposing would make it more likely that another District's tributes would win and not a Career District.  This would be just fine by me.  Over forty of the Games have been won by either Districts One, Two, or Four.   That's unbalanced.  

 

Seneca seems to agree.  "It would be nice to get some more variety in our victors.  I admit to having a fondness for District One." Again, he smiles at Cashmere.  "But I know that one of my fellow Gamemakers is very enamored of the tributes from District Three.  He loves the traps that the tributes from that district come up with and looks forward to seeing what new ones they will produce each year."  He strokes his elaborate beard. "It's too bad we can't add these features to this year's Arena.  I'm not even sure we can make it happen in time for the Quell next year.  Just imagine what would have happened if..." he trails off into thought.

 

"Why couldn't you make it happen for the Quarter Quell?" my mother wants to know.

 

"Good question!" Seneca says brightly.  "It's because we spend years designing and redesigning the Arenas and testing them out to make sure everything is perfect."

 

"Testing?" I ask.  "How do you test an Arena?"

 

"We put a few criminals into the Arena and run them through various scenarios.  Like do the fire jets work, do the trees fall on cue, are the muttations programmed correctly.  Things like that."

 

I try not to stare in horror at Seneca Crane's words.   They test the traps in the Arena on people?   It doesn't matter what crime they committed, that kind of punishment is inhumane!   Thinking about my hunting, I wonder if anyone from District Twelve caught poaching has been forced to test out any of the Arenas from the past.

 

"How far out in advance do you plan the Arenas?" my mother asks.

 

"Well, we have a general outline of what kinds of locations and terrains we want to use sketched out about ten years in advance.   We don't want to repeat the same kinds of Arenas over and over again and it takes time to find the right locations to construct the Arenas.  We really have a top notch scouting team that can see a homely stick of land and think: Arena."  He pauses and I take the time to glance around.  I see that everyone within earshot is listening, especially the victors.  It makes sense since having an idea of what to expect Arena-wise will help their tributes later on.

 

"After we have the location," he continues. "It can take anywhere from one to three years to do all of the construction, testing and preparations.   Muttations don't grow on trees, you know."

 

"I didn't know," my mother says.

 

"It really takes a lot of time and planning.  But it's worth it!" he says excitedly.  "Why the Arena we have planned for the Quell is going to be very exciting and something I don't think anyone's seen before."

 

Cashmere leans in, seemingly interested in the Gamemaker for the first time all night.  "Tell me more, Sennie," she purrs.

 

"Now, now, Cashmere.  You know I can't."

 

She pouts at him for a few seconds then turns back to her food.   I find myself disliking her more with every action she takes and word she speaks. 

 

The servants start to clear away the salad course and bring out the main course of some kind of stuffed bird on a bed of rice and greens styled into a nest.   It's pretty, but I'm craving something a little more substantial.  I eat it anyway because I'm hungry.  

 

My mother tries to keep the conversation going with Seneca by asking him about his favorite Arenas and which traps he likes the most.   It's pretty ingenious on her part and I know the victors are listening to his responses to file away for later.   We find out that despite the disaster of tributes freezing to death in the Seventy-First Games that Seneca really liked the snow covered arena.   He'd like to retry it, maybe with some hot springs next time to keep people warm and more starting kits nearer the tribute launch pads.   He's excited by his work and clearly loves what he's doing.   I find it disturbing that he's so happy to be sending kids to their deaths.  

 

The old woman next to Annie babbles something incomprehensible to me.   I give her a blank look and she repeats herself.  It doesn't help.

 

Annie comes to my rescue.  "Mags wants to know if you're the one who taught your little sister how to make nets."

 

So that's what she was asking?  I would have never figured that out on my own.   I nod and say, "Yeah.  My father taught me before he died and I've been teaching Prim these last few months."

 

Mags babbles something which Annie translates to, "They look pretty good for a beginner.  Not good enough to catch fish on a day to day basis, but good enough for a few weeks.  You should come see me later, I'll show you how to make better ones."

 

"Thanks.  I'll look you up."  I really do appreciate the offer.  Four is known for its fishing fleets and considering Mags' advanced age she obviously knows a thing or two that I could learn. 

 

Annie leans over and whispers, "Mags must really like you and your sister.  She doesn't teach just anyone what she knows.   She taught Finnick how to use a net and spear fish when he was growing up.  It's why he was deadly in his Games."

 

I remember Finnick's Games, not because I remember when they happened, but because they replay the three hour highlight reel of his Games multiple times every year.  Even though he was young, he was incredibly dangerous.  But once he got his trident and made a net, he was unstoppable.  

 

I spend the rest of dinner chatting with Mags and Annie for the most part while fielding the occasional question from Seneca or some other victor.   Dessert is a rich chocolate cake drizzled in some kind of berry sauce.  I can only eat a few bites of it because it is so decadent. For the first time all meal, Cashmere finishes what's put in front of her.   It's a bit of a surprise considering how she picked at most of the meal, but I write it off as another sign of her being from One.  

 

After dinner, we get up to mingle for a bit and Seneca approaches me.   "I didn't want to ask you this during dinner, but do you think I could meet her?"

 

I'm a little confused at what he means initially.   Which her is he talking about?  Prim?  Then it hits me, he's talking about my baby.   The daughter that the entire Capitol other than President Snow thinks is Peeta's.  I nod my head, even though I really want to say no.

 

The Head Gamemaker kneels down in front of me and places his hands on my belly.   "Hello, little girl.  I'm very honored to meet you and I hope that I'll have the chance to get to know you in the future," he says directly to my stomach.   He then tilts his head up to look at me.  "My wife, Paulina, is pregnant, you know.  We're going to have a son around the same time you'll give birth to your daughter.   I really honestly and truly hope that they can become friends and grow up together."

 

He sounds so sincere that I nod again.   I don't want to correct him because there's no way that what he hopes will come true.  Not with the Games still taking place every year.  Not with the Capitol keeping the Districts starving and segregated. 

 

"Thank you, Katniss," he says, standing up.  "I appreciate you letting me impose on you like this."

 

"At least you asked," I blurt out.  I feel like I need to say something.  In a way, for all of his willingness to instrument the tributes' deaths, he's more decent than many of the people I've met here.  "Most everyone I've met in the Capitol don't even do that."

 

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Katniss.  I would have wished our citizens would have been more polite than that and for that rudeness you have my apologies."

 

"But you're not the one who was rude."

 

He smiles at me a little sadly.  "Yet, I feel that someone should apologize.  For everything.  Now, if you'll excuse me.  There's someplace I need to be."

 

And on that cryptic statement, he strides from the room. 

 

**oOo**

I slip away as soon as I can and go back to the twelfth floor.   I'm tired of being social.  I'm tired of smiling, of having to think about every possible meaning to what I say, of having to suck up to people I can't stand, of having to pretend to be someone I'm not.   I long for District Twelve and its coal dust covered streets and people.  At least there, I knew who I was.  

 

I find myself missing Madge and Gale and the people of the Hob.   I'm glad my mother is here with me, but it doesn't make up for the confinement I feel.  

 

I'm still hungry and craving something meaty.  I order up two lamb chops and am disappointed when they arrive overcooked.  They're still tasty with a mint apple sauce, but I like my meat rarer.   I try again and the same thing happens.  I finish those two chops as well and decide not to try again.   Besides, I'm full.  

 

I glance at the clock and see that it's only nine at night but it feels like later.   Probably the time difference again.   There's nothing keeping me from going to bed.  From what I saw today, the Arena is in the same time zone as District Twelve which means that it's already dark there.   With only eight tributes left and five of those in an alliance still, there will likely not be much going on tonight.  Not with Cato's injuries and Clove caring for him.  

 

I get ready for bed and pull on a soft nightgown of light green cotton.   I'll take a shower tomorrow when I am more coherent.  For now, I sleep.

 

When I wake up several hours later, I can see the tendrils of dawn stretching across the sky from my window.   I take a shower, trying the best I can to not end up smelling like some kind of flower.  

 

I don't succeed. 

 

When I get out, I do my hair up in its signature braid and try to find the pants I wore yesterday where I left them the night before but they're gone.  Someone must have come in and cleaned up after me when I was sleeping.   I'm upset with myself that I didn't hear them and vow to try to be more vigilant. 

 

I pull out another pair of black pants and a simple pull over shirt and put them on.  I note that most of my wardrobe is made up of dresses of several varieties.  I wrinkle my nose.  I'm not a dress kind of person.  The only times I've worn a dress deliberately since I lost my father have been for the Reaping. Dresses aren't conducive to tramping about in the forest and hunting game.  

 

I go out to the dining room and help myself to the offerings there.   I'm mostly interested in the crisp bacon and fresh fruit but when a crescent shaped pastry catches my eye, I grab it.  

 

Bing and Farl are both up and in the sitting room with the television.   I don't know where the others are, but I figure they're either still sleeping or doing something else.  

  
The Games are on, of course, and for once not following Cato and Clove.   Instead, the cameras are actually focused on Prim's group. 

 

I take a seat on the couch.

 

Bing looks over at me and smiles.  "Morning, Katniss.  Glad you could join us."

 

"Morning.  So what's going on?" I ask.

 

Farl answers, "Rue's sleeping.  Peeta's standing watch while Thresh is gathering firewood nearby."

 

"What about Prim?"

 

"She and that girl from Five are out gathering food," Bing says.  "They've had to go out farther than before because they've stripped the closer areas bare."

 

I nod.   That's something Gale, Prim, and I have had to watch out for in our daily forays into the woods.   You don't want to harvest the whole area because you want the food to be there year after year.  It's just not sustainable to gather everything.  That just leads to starvation in the long run when your previous supply runs out.  It doesn't matter as much in the Arena, but back home it's something I have to think about.

 

The screen is showing Prim and Rani on the edge of a small clearing.  There are patches of wild carrot along one edge and I can see in the clearing itself fireweed, mustard, and dandelions.  Prim is currently gathering young pokeweed shoots and fiddlehead ferns while Rani is collecting some kind of prickly berry.  

 

I wonder why they're following the two because other than a few snippets of random conversation, the two girls aren't talking.   There must not be anything else of interest going on in the Arena.   This tends to happen later in the Games.  It's also generally around this time that the Gamemakers do something to up the interest and excitement.  Like call a Feast or release some kind of rabid muttation. 

 

I eat my breakfast, enjoying the ability to see my sister and gauge how she's doing.  From what I can see, she's thinner, not by a lot, but the little weight she put on while in the Capitol is gone.  She's not lost as much as a lot of the tributes get during the Games.  That means that her alliance is effective despite limited supplies.  If I had to guess, I suspect that they've also been making good use of the string I sent.  

 

I get my answer to that when Prim decides that they should move on a few minutes later.   They've got a good haul from the area and they need to get the greens they collected to cooking since several of them need multiple changes of water before they're edible.  They stop along their way back at several snares set with Prim's string and the wire from Rue's pack.   They don't have too much, just a rabbit and some kind of turkey-like bird the announcers call a groosling.   Still, it's food.  

 

Prim field dresses both animals while Rani resets the two traps.   It's an efficient system and it's clear that they've both done their respective tasks before.  

 

They continue back through the woods until they reach the stream.  The commentators state that they're about a half a mile from the main camp, which is unfortunate because there's an obstacle between them and the camp.

 

Clint.

 

The screen splits and now I can see Clint.  He's kneeling along the stream edge drinking water.  He's not purifying it, which is stupid in my opinion.   But you can't stop people who aren't used to surviving out of doors from doing things that seem harmless but can be deadly.  

 

He pauses and looks downstream with a startled expression on his face.  He's heard something.  

 

Rani and Prim. 

 

The two are walking along the stream edge talking about what they're going to do with the food they've gathered.   Prim wants to roast the bird and rabbit while Rani is pushing for a stew.   Neither is paying that much attention to the world around them.  

 

I frown.  It's almost like they've forgotten there are other tributes out there and that those tributes are deadly.  

 

Clint hasn't forgotten.  

 

He scrambles off of the rocky strewn beach and into the woods.  He finds a tree that has several branches  overhanging the edge of the stream and climbs it.   I'm impressed with his climbing ability, especially with his lame foot.  He uses the rope he has to loop around the tree and shimmies up the trunk.   Once he reaches the limb he wants, he lays down on it and does something with the rope that reminds me of some of the snares that Gale sets.  He makes sure the knife on his belt is secured and that he's out of sight from anyone approaching. 

 

And then he waits. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written 7/14/13  
> Revised 8/28/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> Don't kill me for the cliffhanger. But trust me, it needed to end there. 
> 
> About Mrs. Mellark. I am not condoning her treatment of her children as seen in the Hunger Games. But, I'm doing my level best to try to make her anger and outbursts understandable. In a very real way she is threatened by the Everdeens and she's got some serious self esteem issues. I've hinted at it before, but I'm going to spell it out here. In District Twelve, people marry young. Typically around nineteen or twenty. Mrs. Mellark was twenty five to Mr. Mellark's eighteen when they got married. That is a substantial age difference and I've hinted at it earlier that the only reason he married her was because she got pregnant at the District's Final Reaping Day Party. So in the eyes of District Twelve, she was an old maid who no one wanted and only got a man because she got pregnant. Not something that's good for the self esteem. So like many people, she lashes out. And she lashes out at the wrong people. It doesn't mean she's in the right but in a crapsack world without therapists except for in District Thirteen and the Capitol she hasn't gotten the help she needed to learn to deal more effectively. I may write a story about this whole thing. I may not. 
> 
> I actually enjoyed writing Seneca Crane. We didn't really see him in the books but in the Movies he was portrayed fairly sympathetically. I'm running with that. 
> 
> I also feel that just like any major event that there's a lot of planning involved. I am actually involved with a very large event here in the U.S. I can state that we do planning years in advance for some things. So the whole idea that you can build an Arena in a few months with the detail that the Quell Arena had is laughable to me. Even with technology, it still takes time, planning, and testing. 
> 
> Up next: The encounter with Clint.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty Four**

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Farl and Bing both watching me intently.  I can't be bothered to tell them to stop it because I'm unable to rip my eyes away from the screen in front of me.

 

Prim is in danger.   Real danger and there's nothing I can do about it.   My heart is pounding and the baby, seeming to respond to my anxiousness, is making my stomach all fluttery.

 

All of the money that I've raised from the sponsors here in the Capitol will be useless if Prim doesn't survive the next few minutes.  

 

My eyes dart between the two pictures shown side by side on the screen.  I keep hoping that Clint will decide not to ambush the two girls since he's alone and they're in a group.   But I know deep down that he will.

 

I know what he'll see when they come into view.  He'll see the youngest tribute in the Games and her small size and write her off as no threat.  What he won't see is Peeta, who is back at the alliance base camp.  Instead, he'll see Rani, who for all of her cunning and skills doesn't appear to be much of a threat physically, unlike Clove ,who is a Career.

 

He'll attack.   It's what I would do if I were him.   He's going to see what he'll think are two easy kills.   Prim is in danger.  The mantra plays over and over in my head and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

 

I can tell when Clint spots Rani and Prim.   His whole body tenses.  His eyes narrow and a small smile crosses his lips.   I was right, he's going to attack.   He shifts his grip on the snare and waits for the two girls to get closer.  

 

"I wonder if Peeta'll let us use some of the crackers we have in the supplies for stuffing," Prim says, taking a few steps closer to danger and a few paces ahead of Rani.  "I bet we could use them as a stuffing for the bird."

 

"Still going on about roasting the bird?" Rani asks, her eyes crinkled in amusement.  "I told you, stew's the best way to make the thing last longer and go further between five people."

 

My sister makes a face.   "But I'm getting sick of stew!"

 

From overhead, Clint flicks his wrist in an odd twisting motion and then lets the rope in his hand go.  It settles over Rani's head and onto her shoulders.  

 

In less time than it takes Rani to figure out what happened and try to shout a warning, Clint's pulled the rope taut and is choking the life out of the girl from Five.   Rani claws at the rope trying to get it to loosen but to no avail.    She kicks at the rocks on the ground to try to get Prim's attention.

 

It works.

 

Prim turns.  "Rani, are you-- Rani!" she cries, seeing the rope around the other girl's neck.   She drops her basket of food and runs to help her friend.  

  
I'm screaming at the screen, "Run away, Prim!  Run!" over and over again.   I hear people coming into the room behind me, but I ignore them.  Prim is my world right now. 

 

Clint smiles at the opportunity.  He attaches the rope he's holding to some kind of hook on his belt and launches himself out of the tree toward Prim.  

 

The weight of Rani on the other end of the rope slows his fall, acting like a counter weight.   It also has the added benefit of lifting the girl from Five off of the ground.   Her face is almost purple-red from the lack of oxygen.  In a final desperate attempt, Rani pulls a knife from her pocket and struggles to saw through the rope above her head.  But I know she doesn't have a lot of time.  

 

I've watched hangings before in District Twelve.   They aren't common.  But every so often someone will get it into his or her head that they need to steal in order to survive and end up getting caught.  There is no trial and the punishment is swift.  If the condemned is lucky, their jugular will be cut off and they'll go unconscious after a few seconds.  But most of the time, death comes slowly and painfully after several minutes, with the dying person aware of what's happening the whole time.   That's what's happening to Rani now.   So long as the blood flow isn't cut off to her brain, she'll stay conscious and she might be able to get through the rope.   

It's the only chance she has.

 

It's the only chance Prim has.

 

Clint lands on my sister, knocking both of them to the ground.  Prim lets out a loud cry of pain as she lands hard on the rocky ground. 

 

Clint raises one hand and hits my sister across the face.   She cries out but struggles underneath the boy from Ten to try to get free.  Her hands claw at his face and I see a few small cuts from where she's managed to score a few hits.  

  
He doesn't let up.  He reaches down and draws his knife.   Prim sees it and grabs a rock with one of her hands.   She uses the rock to try to knock the knife out of the way.   It doesn't work.  Clint shifts on her and sits down hard on my sister's abdomen, forcing the air out of her lungs.  

 

He brings the knife up to Prim's neck and presses down. 

 

Prim freezes.  

 

"Didn't count on me, did you?" Clint sneers through panting breaths.  "Everyone counts me out because of my foot.  Sponsors.  Gamemakers.  You."

 

"I didn't-" Prim tries to get out.

 

"Shut up!" he yells.  "Yes, you did!   You're just like everyone else!   You laughed at me during training!  You all did!"

 

I don't know what he's talking about but Prim seems to because her eyes look sad.  "I'm sorry," she says.  "Please, you don't need to do this."

 

"Yes, I do!  Yes, I do!   I have to show them that I'm not some piece of trash to be kicked to the side because I've got a lame foot."  He looks down at my sister and something about him seems to shift.  "You're right," he says, his voice far away.  "You didn't laugh at me."

 

Prim tries to shake her head but stops because of the knife.  "No," she says instead, "I didn't.   I know what it's like to be made fun of."  I wonder briefly who's made fun of my sister but shove the thought away.  

 

Clint and Prim are staring at each other.  Prim trying to convince Clint to let her go.  Clint trying to work up the nerve to kill a little girl.   Neither is giving any ground.

 

Behind them, Rani is still frantically sawing at the rope around her neck.  She's over halfway through and the fibers are starting to fray and give from her weight.  

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three swipes of the knife and she's through.   She falls to the ground and the noose loosens around her neck.  She's done it.   The girl from Five gasps for air and tries to recover her breath.   She's not dead.  But the fight's not done yet.

 

The tension on the rope gives and throws Clint off balance.  He falls forward onto Prim and the knife scrapes along her throat and up her jaw.  My heart stops when I see the blood.   Prim!

 

I don't realize that I've apparently said my sister's name aloud until I feel my mother's hand on my shoulder.  I tear my eyes away from the screen to look up at her.   "It's not deep enough," she says.  "He didn't hit the artery."

 

I nod.  I have to trust that my mother, who is the only doctor we have in the Seam, would know if the injury were fatal or not.   Still, it's a terrifying injury.   My mother takes a seat next to me and I turn my attention back to the action on screen.

 

Rani is still recovering from being hanged but she's crawling, slowly, toward Prim and the boy from Ten.   She's got the remnants of the rope in one hand and the knife that cut it in the other.    Her once pale face is almost as red as her hair and her eyes are bloodshot.  She doesn't look good.  But she does look determined.

 

Prim grabs for another rock, a bigger rock, and brings it down on the back of Clint's head.   Hard.   There's a loud crack when when it hits and the rough edge of the rock tears away part of his scalp and I can see the white of bone underneath.     

 

The camera shifts and I can see that Clint is dazed from the blow.   Prim uses this to her advantage; rather than striking another blow to the head, like I would do, she rolls Clint off of her and tries to scramble away.  

  
She doesn't get very far.   Clint reaches out and grabs her leg with one hand and swipes at her with the knife in the other.   He scores a direct hit on her left calf.

 

Prim screams and bashes at the hand holding her with a rock.   She scores a hit and gets the boy to let go.   She scoots back some to get out of arm's length then reaches down to pull the knife from her leg.  Blood spurts from the wound but she doesn't have time to think about treating the injury.  Clint is still a threat.  

 

Rani reaches the two other tributes and shakily gets to her knees.   Placing the rope between her teeth, she plunges the knife down into Clint's back.

 

The sound that comes from Clint's mouth is something I never want to hear again.  I wish I could mute the sound or stop up my ears to block out his screams.   It's horrible and piercing and somehow made even worse knowing that not seconds before I was rooting for his death.  

 

He's not dead.  At least not yet.  

 

Rani wrenches the knife free and then jabs it back in on the other side of his spine.   She's going for his kidneys.  

 

His scream is not as loud as before but no less pitiful.   The boy from Ten is in agony.

 

I hear Farl make a gagging sound next to me and I sympathize.   My stomach isn't sitting very well either.   I'm refusing to leave the room, though, until I know what happens to Prim.   Farl has no such compunctions, making a dash to the balcony.   I hope someone tells him not to throw up over the edge.  The results could be messy.

 

Her prey immobilized, Rani pulls the knife out again and slips it back into her pocket.   She pulls herself up until she's straddling Clint and loops the noose around the dying boy's neck and pulls.  

 

"Thought you could pick on little girls, huh?" Her voice is raspy and harsh from the choking she experienced. "Big bad boy from Ten that everyone laughed at.  Ptew!" she spits onto him.   "Screw you!  Trying to choke me!  How does it feel now?"  She jerks the rope.

 

Clint struggles futilely for a few seconds before giving up.   I can see the acceptance in his eyes as well as the hatred.   A few moments later, even those emotions are gone.  

 

A cannon fires 

 

Clint is dead.

 

Rani rolls off of him curling up into the fetal position next to his body.   Huge body-wracking sobs overcome her.   I don't know if it's from the brush with death or the fact that she just killed a boy with her own hands.   Probably both.

 

Prim crawls over to her.  "Rani, are you okay?" 

 

The girl throws her arms around my sister and continues sobbing uncontrollably.  Prim strokes her head and I can tears streaming down my sister's face as well.   She's alive.   Hurt.  But alive.  

 

I sit back on the couch and try to calm my racing heart.   One more tribute is dead.  My sister is now one more step closer to coming home. 

 

Prim tries to get a hold of herself, but it's hard.   She's still shaking and I can see she's fighting to stave off going into shock.   Rani isn't much better.   She's still crying and clutching at my sister.

 

"Rani, we've gotta go," Prim says after a few false starts.  "Someone might have heard the screams.   I don't... I don't think I could fight anyone right now."

 

The girl from Five sits up and looks at my sister, taking in her injuries -- the cut on the throat and jaw, the wounded left leg, and the various bruises that are forming.   Rani isn't much better off, her throat is raw and chafed.  The rope Clint used was rough and it shows.     After a few seconds, she nods.  

 

Rani gets up first.  She unhooks the rope from Clint and retrieves his knife.   She goes through his pockets but doesn't find anything of any value.   Then she goes back to where she dropped her basket of greens and picks it up. 

 

Meanwhile Prim takes the smaller amount of rope and uses it to fasten a makeshift bandage over her leg.   She's going to need more medical attention, but back at the camp.  With Rani's help, she gets to her feet.

 

The older girl looks at her.  "Can you walk?" she asks, her voice still raspy.  

 

Prim tests putting weight on her leg and nods.  "I think so.  We're going to have to take it slow, though."

 

Rani nods and retrieves Prim's basket from where my sister dropped it.  Together, the two of them start to walk slowly down the rock strewn stream bank.   Their steps aren't very steady and neither one is talking.  

 

That's okay because the commentators are going on and on excitedly about the attack and Clint's death.   One woman is applauding Clint's ingenuity but lamenting that Clint got caught monologuing and forgot about Rani.  The other is complimenting both Rani and Prim's resourcefulness in reacting to the surprise attack.  Particularly Rani's quick thinking with her knife.  The two theorize that both Rani and Prim will get more sponsors now that they've shown a willingness to kill.

 

I want to reach through the screen and smack their garishly made up faces.   Rani was always willing to fight to protect herself, or have they forgotten about Marvel?   As for Prim, she didn't want to kill Clint, or she'd have struck him again with the rock.   She was fighting for survival, not to kill.  

 

Rani and Prim make it about two hundred yards when Rue, Peeta and Thresh come running into view.   They must have heard the cannon and were coming to investigate.   All three of them are brandishing weapons: Rue her slingshot, Thresh his knife, and Peeta his short sword.   When they see my sister and Rani, they visibly relax but still keep running.    I see the orange of Rue's back pack over Thresh's shoulder and I'm hoping that they were smart enough to have the first aid kit in there.  Or what's left of it in any case.  

 

Seeing the other three tributes in the alliance causes Rani and Prim to both relax.  They move to the edge of the woods along the stream and find a fallen tree to sit down on.   No point in pushing further, with Thresh and Peeta there and only Cato and Clove left in the Games, they're as safe as they can be barring any Gamemaker meddling.  

 

Rue is the first to reach them.  "We heard the cannon!  What happened?" she asks, clearly out of breath.

 

Rani makes a motion for Prim to talk.  I'm guessing her throat is now hurting since the adrenaline from earlier is likely wearing off.  

 

Prim nods and answers Rue's question.  "The boy from Ten, the one with the lame foot, he got the jump on us.   He tried to hang Rani and stab me.  But we were able to fight him off."

 

Peeta frowns and looks over at Thresh.  The large dark-skinned boy from Eleven shares the same expression.  I can see that they're both blaming themselves for not being there.  Peeta's shoulders are hunched while Thresh's hands keep opening and closing into fists.   They're both upset and that's the only reason I can think why they would be.  

 

"Did you bring the first aid kit?" Prim asks Rue.  "I think we both need it."

 

Thresh answers by shrugging off the orange backpack and putting it on the ground in front of Prim.  

 

My sister tries to smile up at the large boy but the dual motion of tilting her head back and smiling causes her to wince in pain.  

 

Peeta's frown deepens.

 

My sister doesn't notice.  She opens the pack and pulls out a bottle of water.  I'm guessing it's sterilized since Prim uses it to clean first Rani and then her wounds.  

 

The cut on her left leg starts bleeding again and Peeta kneels down next to my sister and applies pressure with a scrap of cloth from what looks like a blanket.   "What do you need me to do?" he asks. 

 

She purses her lips.  "I'm not sure.   I'm pretty sure both my face and leg will need to be stitched up but I don't think I can do it myself."  She looks down at where Peeta is kneeling.   "Do you think you can?"

 

The blond haired boy shakes his head. 

 

Prim looks at Rue next.  "I can try," she says dubiously.  "But I'm not very good."

 

"I'll do it."

 

All eyes turn to Thresh, who's standing there stoically.  

 

He shrugs and says, "My parents died a long time ago.  My granny's eyesight ain't so good anymore.  Someone's gotta mend the clothes."

 

Prim smiles at his statement.  "Then will you stitch me up, Thresh?" she asks.

 

"It'd be better if you weren't awake for it," he cautions.   "It's gonna hurt a lot."

 

"I know," Prim says softly.   "If you don't mind, I'd rather be awake.  I promise not to scream."

 

No one asks why Prim would rather be awake.  They don't need to.   She's the healer of the group and even though she won't be wielding the needle, she'll probably feel better overseeing the procedure.   Prim takes out a packet of antibiotic creme.  I'm surprised they have any left after Peeta's injury but remember that I don't know what the backpack Thresh got from Jace had in it.  For all I know, they have another fully stocked kit. 

 

Prim carefully rubs the ointment on Rani's neck and then on her own wounds.   Picking up a stick from near the fallen tree, Prim tells Thresh that she's ready for him to start then puts the piece of wood into her mouth.  

 

The large boy motions for Peeta to get behind Prim to hold her steady in case she starts to thrash around from the pain.  When he feels everything is ready, he begins on Prim's leg.  

 

The wound is about an inch long and fairly deep.   There isn't a lot he can do about the muscle, so he puts in eight stitches.   They're a little crooked, but they'll serve their purpose.   Then, he moves to her throat and jaw.   This is a more delicate area.   Thresh carefully places three stitches along Prim's jaw.  They're going to pull a little but I understand why he wants to do as few as possible.  He examines the cut on Prim's throat and says, "I don't think I want to chance it, I could slip and mess it all up."    

 

Prim takes the piece of wood out of her mouth.  There are deep teeth marks in it.   I can also make out the tears that are standing in my sister's eyes, but the entire time Thresh worked on her she didn't make any louder sound than a whimper.   I'm proud of my sister for showing her strength.   I hope the sponsors took notice.  

 

After a few steadying breaths, Prim says, "That's okay, Thresh.  Does it look deep to you?"

 

The large boy from Eleven shakes his head.  "No.  Not much more than a scratch really.  The jaw's worse but not by a lot.  I'd say you got lucky."

 

"It wasn't luck," Prim says firmly.  "Rani saved me by cutting the rope he was hanging her with.  It threw him off balance.  He'd have skewered me for sure if it weren't for that."

 

Rani mimes Prim hitting Clint with a rock.  

 

"I may have hit him with a rock.  But you're the one who killed him."

 

Rani shrugs, indicating the subject is open for debate.

 

Prim sticks her tongue out at the red haired girl but doesn't argue any further. 

 

Thresh wraps Prim's leg with a few strips of cloth and then lifts her up on to his back.   "You aren't walking back to camp," he says when Prim starts to protest.  

 

Rue gathers as much as she can while Peeta goes over to Rani.

 

The foxfaced girl smiles up at him and points to his back then shakes her head.   I interpret the gestures to mean she doesn't want a ride.   I can respect that.   Peeta's back is likely still healing from the burns earlier in the Games.  

 

Instead, she motions that they should just walk back together, but slowly.   Peeta nods and pulls out a bottle of water and hands it to the girl.  She smiles at him and takes several small sips.   I can tell from the tightening around her eyes that the water hurts going down but there isn't a lot she can do about it.  

 

"Thank you," she whispers after a little while.

 

"Why are you thanking me?" he asks, confused.  

 

"For coming to save me."

 

"Don't worry about it," Peeta says, making a self-effacing gesture.  "You would have done the same.  Right?"

 

"Right."  She turns her head so the blush that's rising on her cheeks doesn't show. 

 

"That's what being in an alliance means.  It means that we help each other.  It doesn't matter that we're from different districts.  You're one of my partners.  That's what partners do."  His voice is so earnest and so naive.   He doesn't know that Rani has a crush on him.   I don't know how he doesn't know, she's all but declared her affection in everything but words.

 

I exchange a look with my mother and she raises an eyebrow at me and it hits me.  This is what everyone else was thinking about both of my relationships with Gale and Peeta.   They knew how Gale and Peeta felt about me and didn't understand why I didn't see it.    

 

I reevaluate my assessment as I watch Rani and Peeta walk back to camp.   Peeta is focused on getting Prim and himself out of the Games.  That focus is what's blinding him.  It's a lot like my daily focus to feed my family blinding me to what Gale and Peeta felt.   I couldn't see what those two felt about me until it was shoved in my face and I couldn't ignore it.   I should have seen it.  Especially with Gale.  

 

They make it back to camp where Rue cleans the food Rani and Prim gathered and starts making a stew with the rabbit, greens and a little rice.   Rani smiles triumphantly and looks at Prim who's pulling something out of a different first aid kit, the pain reliever.    

 

Prim takes a pill and then passes the bottle to Rani.   The red haired girl goes through the motions of taking a pill from the container and swallowing it, but she doesn't actually take the medicine.  I'm guessing it's because her throat hurts too much to swallow it, but she doesn't want to disappoint my sister. 

 

There's a little bell like sound coming from the screen and the members of Prim's alliance all look up.   A sponsorship parachute is arriving.   I wonder if it's the cookies I told Haymitch about a couple of days ago. 

 

It's not, I realize a few seconds later.  The district number on the parachute reads '5.'  It's for Rani. 

 

The foxfaced girl looks confused at the gift.  It's clear she wasn't expecting a gift.

 

The parachute lands a few feet in front of her and Peeta goes to retrieve it.   He brings the whole thing to her, chute and all.   "Do you want us to go someplace else while you open it?" he asks.  

 

Rani shakes her head.  I imagine if the gift were something that the other members of the alliance weren't supposed to see her sponsors would have sent it to her like they did the nightlock berries, when she was alone.   She opens the container and pulls out a tube of what looks to be some kind of medicine.  

 

When Prim sees it, she claps her hands in glee.  "Do you know what that is?" she asks the group happily.

 

The rest of the tributes shake their heads.  

 

"It's a salve from the Capitol that speeds healing.  I bet if we used this on your neck, Rani, that you'd be able to talk without pain by tomorrow."

 

The girl from Five smiles and points at Prim's wounds. 

 

Prim nods.  "If there's enough, we can use it on me.  But they sent it to you."

 

Rani shrugs her shoulders, not wanting to argue with my sister.   She hands the tube to Prim. 

 

My sister puts a little on her fingers and motions for Rani to sit down.  The girl does and Prim gently rubs some of the ointment onto Rani's red and enflamed skin.   The girl from Five tries not to flinch away at the touch, but I can tell that the pain is excruciating.  

 

When Prim is finished, there's still about two thirds of a tube left.   And Rani croaks out, "Now you."

 

Prim shakes her head.   "Not until you're better.  I can wait."

 

But Rani is adamant.  "Please Prim!  There's enough for you and I'm already getting better."  It's true, she's now able to talk and the redness is fading slightly.  

 

"You'd better do it, Prim," Rue says from where she's kneeling next to the small cooking fire nestled among the rocks.   "You know how stubborn she can get."

 

Prim makes a face but hands the tube back to Rani and sits down next to her.   The girl from Five carefully daubs the salve along Prim's jaw and then rolls up Prim's pant leg to tend to the wound there.   She's judicious with the medicine, which I appreciate.   The Games aren't over and Cato and Clove are still out there. 

 

When Rani is finished, Thresh stands up and addresses the group.  "I think we need to make a change in how we do things around here."

 

Rani looks up at him.  "Oh?"

 

"I think, and I'm sure Peeta'll agree with me, none of you girls should go off on your own any more without one of us men."

 

Prim frowns.  Rue looks confused.  But Rani is pissed.

 

"And why is that?" she asks, glaring angrily at the large boy from Eleven.

 

"You saw what happened today.  You got attacked."  Thresh stares back at her calmly, apparently confident in his reasoning.

 

Rani is having none of it.  "And we won!"

 

"And got beat all to hell for your troubles," he counters.

 

"That's cause Ten got the drop on me.  You're no more immune to a rope around the neck than I am!"

 

"Yeah, but I'm strong enough to pull someone out of the tree if they try that crap.  Peeta is too."

 

The girl from Five is positively shaking from anger, I don't blame her.  If I were in her shoes, I'd be pissed at the condescending tone Thresh is using and the implications behind his words.  It's of no surprise that she calls him on it.  "So you're saying because I'm a girl and not able to lift two hundred pounds without breaking a sweat that I can't take care of myself?"

 

"That's not what Thresh is saying at all," Peeta tries to soothe.

 

She whirls on him.  "Stay out of this, Peeta!" she hisses.   "This is between me and Thresh!"

 

The blond boy holds up his hands and takes a step back, indicating it's Rani's fight.  Smart move, since Rani's giving both of them looks that would kill right now.

 

She turns back to Thresh. "Well, is this new rule because I'm a girl?"

 

Thresh shrugs.  "You did okay today.  I would have done better.  You almost died.  And what's worse, you almost took Prim with you."  He says it simply, as if he's just stating facts.  

 

Rani goes white, the red of rope burn around her throat standing out against the paleness of her skin.  

 

Thresh stares her down, his dark eyes implacable.   He knows that Rani did her best, he also knows he could have done better and she knows it too.   Size matters in the Games.   It's why there are more male winners over all seventy three years of the Games than female ones.  A lot of the time it comes down to brute force.  

 

 "That isn't fair, Thresh!" Prim protests.  "It's not like we knew we were going to be ambushed!"

 

"But we should have prepared for it.  What if it were the two from Two?   What would you have done then?"

 

"Our best!" Prim counters.  "That's all any of us can do!  Don't blame Rani because you're feeling guilty, Thresh!"

 

The large boy regards my sister for several second before nodding.  "I'm sorry, Prim.  You're right."

 

My sister crosses her arms.  "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."  She looks at Rani, who's still sitting down looking shocked and hurt.  

 

"Again, you're right.  Don't make it a habit."  He crouches down and looks Rani in the eye.   "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have gone off on you like that."  He looks over to Prim who frowns before continuing, "You and Prim handled yourself good out there.   But from now on, at least let Peeta or me go with you.  For our peace of mind, if nothing else."

 

The red haired girl thinks about it for a few moments.  She's still upset, I can tell, but she's trying to think about what would be best.   Only Cato and Clove remain and they'll be fighting as a team.   They're also the most dangerous tributes in the whole of the Games.   I can see that Rani is playing out what would have happened if she and Prim had run into those two and that the result wouldn't have been as good.  

 

Finally, she nods.  "We go in groups of three and two and either you or Peeta is with each group at any given time."  She pauses and looks back at Thresh.  "You're still an asshole and I still say you wouldn't have done as good of a job I did."

 

"Why do you say that?" he asks in his deep voice.

 

"Because I'm smarter than you!" she shoots back.

 

The rest of the group laughs because Thresh set himself up for that.  All is right with the alliance and I'm relieved.  

 

We don't get a chance to watch any more of the Games because Effie arrives to take us on the rest of our tour.  I'm not sure if I'm glad to see the pink wigged escort or not.  All I know is that the endgame of these Hunger Games has begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written 7/16/13  
> Revised 9/14/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre.
> 
> Hi! I'm back from the large convention that I staff. I am dead tired still so any mistakes here are mine and not Rose's. 
> 
> So Clint tried to take out Prim and Rani and failed. I kind of feel sorry for him. But he made it far in the original series so he had to have had some skills. Considering that Ten is known for livestock I figured a lasso would be a good weapon. All of the stats on hanging are true, unless the neck breaks or the blood flow stops the person is awake and aware for most of the process. And it can take up to forty minutes to fully asphyxiate. It's not a pleasant way to die. 
> 
> Tributes who died in the chapter and how they died:  
> Clint - District Ten - Male - Killed by ???
> 
> That's right I'll leave it up to you to try to figure out how he died. I've presented three ways he could have. 1.) The blow to the head with the rock Prim gave him. 2.) Blood loss from his stab wounds and head wound (both Prim and Rani would get the credit). 3.) Asphyxiation from Rani strangling him. We'll find out in a later chapter which tribute or tributes gets credit for the kill. 
> 
> Until Next time!


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty Five**

 

We have to wait a few minutes, though, because apparently Farl didn't know about the force field and ended up with vomit all over him.   While the poor boy takes his second shower of the day, Effie surveys the rest of us.  

 

She isn't happy with what Bing or I are wearing, I can tell because her mouth makes a little moue when she looks at the two of us.  Bing blushes and goes to his room to change. 

 

Bing emerges a few seconds later wearing a jacket over a slightly less rumpled shirt.   Effie gives a quick nod of approval and looks at me expectantly. 

 

I just cross my arms and refuse to move.  I am not going to wear clothing that is overdone and fussy just because the Capitol will like it more.   I'm pregnant.  I deserve to be comfortable.

 

I can see that she wants to say something to me, but then she checks her watch and shakes her head.  "I do wish Farl would hurry.  We have a schedule we need to keep."

 

"Why does it matter?" Mrs. Mellark wants to know. 

 

I find myself agreeing with her.  It's not like we're doing all that much that's going to be of interest to the Capitol viewers.

 

Effie stomps her high-heeled foot in exasperation.  "Don't you know anything?" she asks, waving her gloved hands around. 

 

Mrs. Mellark puts her hands on her hips and leans forward toward Effie.  "Obviously not, why don't you take pity on us poor district souls and explain what we should know already?"

 

"Snow planned this," Effie says, enunciating every word.  "President Coriolanus Snow.  Bringing you here was his idea, and it has worked out fabulously for Peeta and Prim," she adds quickly.  "He's the one who requested you take a tour of the facilities.  That you get interviewed by Caesar Flickerman himself instead of the first year interns they usually send to underperforming districts."

 

"Like Twelve," Mrs. Mellark states flatly.

 

"Yes, like District Twelve," Effie confirms.  "So if Snow wants you to be in Mentor Central at a specific time on a specific day, I'm going to make sure that happens.  Is that clear enough for you?" The escort tries to smile but it comes off as brittle and false. 

 

"I think everything's perfectly clear, Ms. Trinket," Mr. Mellark says, placing a hand on his wife's arm.  "Thank you for filling us in on just how much President Snow has done for us."

 

I don't think about the sixty thousand total he's pledged to help Peeta and Prim.   I also don't think about my admission that I'd do anything to make sure Prim got home.  Yes, President Snow has done a lot for us.  I am not looking forward to finding out the price of his generosity.

 

A few minutes later, Farl comes out wearing a simple button down shirt tucked into navy pants.  He's got a sport coat folded over one arm. Effie smiles at this.  Good, at least this means I don't have time to change so Effie won't try to make me.   I resign myself to having to wear a dress tomorrow when I get up, even though I find them annoying.

 

Effie leads us to the elevator.  Efficient as always, she's telling us about what to expect and where we're going as we walk.   "Now, Mentor Central is located in a different wing of this building than the training facilities and ballrooms that you've seen so far.  On the other side of the interview stage is a slightly smaller tower.  That's Mentor Central.  It's only four stories high.  The first floor is a reception area that opens up onto the square outside.  The general public can come in and make donations of any size there.  There's also two conference rooms for more serious negotiations."

 

The elevator arrives and we all crowd in.   Effie pushes the button for the ground floor and continues her narration.  "The next floor is a cafeteria for the mentors and other victors to eat when they're on duty but don't need to be actively negotiating a sponsorship or directing the delivery of a gift.  There's also a kitchen for the avoxes to make the various meals that need to be brought to a mentor on active duty upstairs as well as a few quarters for the avoxes assigned to Mentor Central to sleep."

 

"Avoxes?" my mother asks.   It's a word we haven't heard before.

 

Effie makes a face.  "Rehabilitated traitors and criminals who have had their tongues cut out and are forced to act as servants and manual labor here in the Capitol," she explains quickly, waving her hands impatiently.  "It's really much more humane and less of a drain on resources to do it this way.   The government doesn't have to waste funds and manpower on incarcerating minor troublemakers and the avox can repay the government for sparing his or her life.  It's really quite an elegant solution."  

 

Effie's explanation sounds like textbook Capitol propaganda but I can't really say anything.   That means that the silent servants who've been taking care of us since we've arrived at the Capitol are people that the government has labeled as traitors and troublemakers.   I wonder if this would be my punishment if they caught me poaching one too many times or if the 'honor' is only reserved for Capitol citizens. 

 

I don't want to find out.

 

I'm not the only one who's horrified by the concept.  I can see that my mother, Mr. Mellark, Bing, and Farl all feel the same way I do.   Mrs. Mellark just looks bored.  

 

The doors to the elevator open and Effie herds us toward the hallway leading to the studio where we had our interviews with Caesar.  But instead of heading left into the backstage, we go right toward the area called Mentor Central.  I note that there aren't any signs or directions on the walls but that Effie seems to know where she's going without thinking about it.  Or at least I don't think she's thinking about where she's going because she hasn't stopped talking.  

 

"The third floor is where the Gamemaker representative's office is located.  Mentors can go here to discuss game options with the Gamemaker on duty.   Also on that floor are two small rooms with several beds in them, one for male mentors and one for female mentors.   There's only four beds per room so you can imagine that there's quite a struggle early in the Games for beds.   But later on, like now, it isn't so bad."  She lowers her voice conspiratorially.  "Although, Haymitch tells me they are extremely uncomfortable.  Not like the beds in Twelve's quarters at all." 

 

We smile at her attempt at levity.  

 

Entering the first floor that she told us about, Effie waves at the receptionist on duty, the young, green-haired man I remember seeing from the tete-a-tete two nights ago.  The foyer is sumptuously decorated with plants flanking the large granite desk.   On the walls are paintings, if you can call them that.   The one behind the green-haired young man can best be described as a well used painter's drip cloth.   The one opposite him seems to be a bunch of dogs playing some sort of card game.  It's just one more thing that separates the Capitol from the districts. 

 

The District Twelve escort pushes the up button on the elevator and I wonder briefly what's under us, but I don't ask.   It's probably something silly like a gym or pool for the mentors to relax in when off duty.  

 

While waiting for the elevator, Effie finishes her description of the place we're going to see in just a few minutes.  "On the top floor is the mentor control room, which is where we're going.  It's entirely open except for the refresher stations, of course."  The last is directed at me since Cecelia and I made a point of stopping in most of the bathrooms along our tour yesterday.

 

The ride to the top floor is blissfully silent.  I try to compose myself because I know that there's going to be a camera crew waiting for us when we get out of the elevator.  

 

The doors open into a room that is the most high tech place I've seen in my life.  On the wall to my left is a bank of twenty four screens surrounding a much larger one.  One for each tribute, I guess, and then one showing what's currently being broadcast across Panem.  At the moment, there are only eight screens lit up seven of the smaller ones and the large one in the middle.   There's no sound and for that I'm thankful.  

 

About ten feet in front of the elevator are three cubicles set up side by side.   Each cubicle has two chairs, three screens, and two sets of headphones with some kind of mouth piece attached to them.  Only the middle cubicle is currently occupied.  Even though the occupants backs are to us, I recognize Brutus and Lyme from District Two.  

 

To my right is another bank of six cubicles, but only one is occupied.  I recognize Quark, from District Five.  He was the winner of the Seventy First Games three years ago. He was the last non-Career to win the Games. I don't remember the older woman with him, but she looks positively ancient.  

 

On the far wall, there's one last bank of cubicles.  The ones closest to the tower of screens are manned by people I recognize from previous Games - Chaff and Seeder from Eleven and Haymitch from Twelve.  Sitting with Haymitch is Cecelia from Eight, she must be helping him out since he doesn't have another victor to share mentoring duties with.   I'm a little surprised that she'd do that for him, but I guess that district prejudice is not as strong as victor solidarity.  

 

Finally, in the middle of the room is a table holding what appears to be a three dimensional holographic map of the arena.   There aren't any lights indicating where the tributes are or where known traps are.  Probably to prevent the mentors from sending gifts that would give away that information.  

 

Along the edge of the room are large floor to ceiling windows all along the walls and behind the main bank of screens is a doorway leading out to a balcony.  A quick glance to my left shows the door to one of the refresher stations that Effie mentioned earlier next to the elevator.  From where the Elevator opened up into the room, I'm guessing there's another bathroom on my right.   Good to know.   Since it's becoming clear that the larger my baby grows the smaller my bladder becomes.   I am not looking forward to my last trimester.   I'll probably be peeing every five minutes at the rate I'm going.   

 

As I'm taking this in, Effie is greeting the camera crew and victors who will be showing us the ropes.   I notice that Clint's family isn't here with us.   And I remind myself to ask Effie about it when she's free.  

 

When she comes back, she tells us that each family group is going to be paired off with a victor and taken to an empty station to be shown the ropes.   My mother and I are going to be taken by Beetee Lee from Three again. 

 

I hang back for a moment and motion to Effie that I'd like to talk to her.  

 

The pink bewigged woman trots over to me and asks, "Is there something you wanted?  A snack maybe?"

 

What is it with people trying to feed me?  I feel like I'm going to be fattened up for slaughter.   I shake my head.  "Maybe later.  Why aren't Clint's parents here?"

 

She looks confused for a moment then brightens.  "Oh, you mean the boy from Ten?  Dreadful timing, him dying like that.  But since he's no longer in the running, there's no need for the Capitol to waste time or resources on them."

 

Does that mean that they were executed?  Turned into avoxes?  What?  "And that means?"

 

"They were sent home, of course!  No need to keep them around here anymore which is excellent news for us.  Less competition!"   Effie's got her Capitol persona going full swing and I find myself missing the more serious and sympathetic woman from the tete-a-tete a few nights ago.  

 

"Right.  I forgot about that."  I look over to where my mother is watching the two of us with Beetee.  "I should get going."

 

Effie stops me with one hand on my forearm.  "Katniss, we aren't sending them home to be cruel," she says in a low voice.  "But how would you feel if you were forced to stay and interact with people if your sister were dead?"

 

I nod at her.  She's made her point.  I wouldn't want anything to do with the Games, the remaining tributes' families or anything if Prim died.  I'd just want to get home to where things are familiar and safe to mourn.  I can respect that.  I also understand that Effie has as much of a part to play as I do.  She isn't the heartless and shallow woman that I remember from the last eight Reapings.   But she has to act that way because it's what the Capitol expects.   I think about Cinna and how gentle and kind he's been.  I wonder what kind of mask he wears.  

 

Joining Beetee and my mother, I look over the set up.   Set into the desk is another screen and a keyboard.  Beetee motions for us to sit down and starts to show us the miscellaneous technical intricacies of how the Arena works and the various aspects of being a mentor.  

 

It's a little more complex than I realized.   Since the Arena is surrounded by a dome-like force field, the actual mechanics of delivering a sponsorship gift are fairly complex.  When the order comes in or when the mentor decides a tribute needs help, they have to call up the item on a digital version of the catalog I saw at the Mayor's.   They place the order and the funds come out of the tribute's account.   The catalog updates automatically at every price increase, Beetee tells us, and it just updated again after Clint's death.  

 

Once the gift is ordered, one of two things happens.  If the gift is something standard, like Prim's string, the order is sent directly to one of the Gamemakers stationed at the Arena.  There, they have a supply bunker of standard items that they pull the item out of.  The gift is then packaged in the iconic silver parachute and container, then it is handed off to the hovercraft pilots to deliver. 

 

That's right, the same pilots who retrieve the bodies of dead tributes deliver the sponsorship gifts. 

 

If the gift is non-standard, like the cookies Haymitch is having made with the flowers painted on, the gift first needs to be run by the Gamemaker here in Mentor Central and the price assessed for it.   I wonder how much the cookies would go for, but don't ask.  Once agreement on the price is reached, it is commissioned and sent to the Gamemakers out at the Arena.  There, it is checked to make sure no contraband or messages are in the non-standard item before it's packaged up and delivered to the hovercraft.     

 

He then shows us how the parachutes are guided in using a remote control so they'll end up close to the correct tribute and not snarled in branches or overhangs.  It's not easy and it takes practice. I wonder how Haymitch is able to do it drunk, then realize that in all of the years I've been watching the Hunger Games, that Prim's gift from me is the first sponsorship gift I've seen delivered to a Twelve tribute. 

 

He also explains how the entire Arena is surrounded by a special force field dome to keep out the elements.  It wouldn't do to have a stray rainstorm ruin the Gamemakers' specially engineered drought.  There are also force fields around other things in the Arena, like the hovercraft launch pad and the muttation holding pens. 

 

My mother seems interested in Beetee's explanations, but I'm wondering about Prim.   I look up from the screen that Beetee is showing us and over to the cubicle where Haymitch and Cecelia are.  

 

As if he's able to sense me watching him, Haymitch's eyes meet mine.  He cocks his head as if asking a question - what do you want?

 

I glance over to the main screen and then back to him.   I want to see how Prim is doing.

 

He smirks and nods his head once.   I can come over.

 

Excusing myself, I get up and walk over to Twelve's cubicle.   As I pass the table in the center of the room, I get a good look at the Arena for the first time.   It's larger than I thought, about ten miles across.   The lake is actually on one edge of the Arena, not in the center like I thought.   The far side of the lake is bordered by large unassailable cliffs and about five hundred yards offshore of those cliffs is a small island that from what I can see houses the retrieval hovercraft.   As I've seen on television, most of the Arena is forested except for a few isolated clearings.   However, what I haven't seen is the area on the other side of the wheat field.  It's a large wooded bog, surrounded by high cliffs.  Basically the whole wheat field/bog combination is one large blind canyon.   No easy way in or out.  The rest of the Arena is what I expect based on what I saw on television.  Wooded hills with a few cliffs, creeks, springs, and caves.  

 

Nothing memorable about it when compared with the desert of death of the Sixty Ninth Games or the urban maze of last year's Games.  I briefly wonder what the Quarter Quell Arena will be like.  From what Seneca Crane said the other night, it sounds like they're going to be going all out.  

 

When I get to the District Twelve cubicle, I stand next to Haymitch and look at his set up.  Unlike the mock up that Beetee was showing my mother and me, this is the real thing.  

 

Cecelia looks up from the screens, headset over her ears, and smiles at me.  She's listening to whatever Prim and the rest of her alliance are saying.  It looks like they're trying to decide who is going to go out and collect something.  Possibly more snares or fishing nets.  They have enough greens for the day.  

 

Haymitch sees me but he holds up one hand warning me not to say anything.  "That's right.  I need you to get off of your ass and deliver my sponsorship gift when I tell you to deliver it.  Not now, but when I give the order. Got it?" he asks, speaking into that odd mouthpiece that's attached to the headset.  

 

He's wearing the headphones oddly, too.  The side without the mouthpiece is pulled off of his ear and back onto his head.   I'm guessing the one side plays the audio from the Games and the side he's listening to is acting like the earpiece on a telephone.  After a little more exchange, he punches a button on the desk and looks up at me.

 

"Do you know how much of a pain in the ass getting those damned cookies caused me?" he asks, not even bothering to say hello.

 

I shrug.  "Not really?  I assume they have bakers in the Capitol."

 

He rolls his eyes.  "Oh, they have bakers all right.  Just not any that can decorate a cookie worth a damn.  First off, no one knew what katniss or primrose flowers looked like.  I had to get a damned horticultural expert to lend me color plates of the stupid things.   Then some idiot decided to paint roses, like the kind our esteemed president wears, on the first set of cookies."  He pauses and regards me with annoyance.  "Please note I said 'first set.'  The second set got made but were so damned fragile that they broke into pieces in transit.  We're now on the third set."

 

"I didn't know it'd be such a hassle," I say, crossing my arms. "I'm sure Mr. Mellark could have done it."

 

"Now you tell me!"  He takes off his headset and stands up.  "Let's go have a little talk, sweetheart.  Outside."  He motions to the balcony behind the bank of screens.  

 

"What about Prim and Peeta?"

 

"Cici's got it covered," he replies and then raises his voice.  "Don't you?"

 

Cecelia gives us a thumbs up followed by a little shooing motion.  

 

He cocks an eyebrow at me.  "See?  Now, come on."

 

I let him lead the way.  On the far edge of the balcony is a set of stairs leading up to the roof, which is where he takes me.  The roof is flat with a few benches scattered along the edge and a few pots of flowers.   He very deliberately leads me away from the benches.  

 

"What do you want, Haymitch?"  I ask with my hands on my hips.

 

"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're in?" he counters.

 

I roll my eyes.  "I'm here, Haymitch.  So's my sister.  So's my mother.  So I've got a pretty good idea I'm not having a carefree jaunt in the Meadow."

 

"No, I mean you personally.  Not your sister.  Not your mother.  Not any of the other damned tributes' families.  But you, sweetheart.  Snow's taken an interest in you and that is not good."

 

My arms fall to my sides.  "How do you know that?"

 

"Effie," he answers.  "She told me about your conversation and what she could make out of it.  So he knows that Peeta's not the father."  It isn't a question.

 

"Yeah, he knows.  I guess he had a test done."

 

Haymitch pulls out a metal flask and takes a drink from it.  "Damn right he had a test done.  He's probably going through all of the Reaping records for Twelve right now to find out who the real father is."

 

I feel the blood drain from my face.  Crap!  That means that Gale's now in danger. 

 

Haymitch sees my expression and smirks.  "That's right, sweetheart, old lover boy's going to get found out.  After that, who knows what.  Snow might just kill him and his family to keep him from spilling the beans about the kid.  Might not.  Might use him to keep you in line."

 

"Snow doesn't need to use Gale," I say, looking away.  "He's already got Prim.  And he already knows that I'll do just about anything to save her."

 

"Well ain't that an unfortunate series of revelations," he mutters, taking another drink.  "He's got you by the short hairs, don't he?"

 

I nod. 

 

He stretches his back.  "Well, that there explains a lot of things."

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like that donation of his."

 

"But that's a good thing, right?  He's invested in Prim and Peeta now.   He's not going to do anything to make them lose.  Right?"

 

Haymitch throws back his head and laughs.  "Girl, who do you think all of that sponsorship money goes to?"

 

I look at him confused.  "I assume the Gamemakers."

 

Haymitch shakes his head.  "Nope.  All of the money the Games generate go right back into the government.  And who runs the government?  Good old Coriolanus Snow.   All of the Gamemakers are government employees and paid a good salary for their efforts.  But they're not the government.  Snow is."

 

The implication floors me.  Snow essentially bought my compliance at no real cost to him.   If Prim wins, he can say he helped her.  If he loses, he's not out anything.  It's an ingenious plan, and a damned underhanded one.

 

"And that ain't the worst of it, sweetheart," he continues.  "I've been talking to the other mentors.  Each of their tributes got a donation from President Snow.  Differing amounts, but all got a substantial donation.   That way any tribute who wins this here Games and their family are now in his eternal debt."

 

I don't know what to say.  I don't know what I can say.  

 

"So I ask again.   Do you know just how much trouble you're in?"

 

I shake my head.   I guess I don't know.  

 

He sighs.  "I didn't think so.  You're going to have to be careful, sweetheart.  Snow's got plans for you.  And he's got plans for that kid of yours." He motions to my belly.  "If I had to guess, he's likely gonna use you as leverage against Peeta if the kid manages to win."

 

"What about Prim?"  I ask.

 

"Your sister isn't the problematic one.  Peeta is.  We can pass a lot of what darling Primrose is doing off as youth and innocence.   Peeta is a whole other ball of wax.  He knows what he's doing.  He knows what he's saying.  He doesn't care because he doesn't think he's got anything to lose."

 

"So he's sure he's going to die?  Even with the rule change?"

 

"You haven't been watching much have you?"  he asks.

 

"I'm watching as much as I can!" I flare.  How dare he imply that I don't care about what's going on in these Games.  "I've had to go on all of these stupid tours and see stupid doctors and have dinner with people I don't know who want to have sex with my twelve year old sister.   So yeah, I've missed stuff!"

 

"Effie told me you found out about one of the so-called perks of being a victor.  I'm real sorry about that."  His voice actually sounds apologetic. 

 

"Did that happen to you?"  I ask.

 

He snorts.  "Does it look like I'm the kind of victor the Capitol would want in their bed?"

 

I notice that he really didn't answer my question which tells me that at one time, yes, the Capitol did want him and that he doesn't want to talk about it.  Respecting his wishes, I change the subject back to Peeta.  "So what has he been saying that's getting the Capitol so upset?"

 

"He's not making any grand speeches, mind you.  If he were, they'd have offed him long ago, public darling or not.  Like they did with Johanna's girl."  He pauses to take another drink, allowing me time to make the connection that he must be referring to District Seven's winner, Johanna Mason.   He puts away his flask and continues. "No, it's the continual reminders that the Capitol is responsible for all of the deaths in the Arena.   That the Capitol isn't to be trusted.  That the rule change is likely a trick like many of the Feasts are so that allies will have to kill each other in the end.   He's also making sure to do as much as he can to show that the districts can work together.  Prim may be the spark that formed that three District alliance.  But Peeta's the fuel that's fanning the flames."

 

"So why doesn't Snow just have them killed?"

 

"Who knows," Haymitch says with a sigh.  "He might, yet.   That's why it's so important we keep that boy from screwing things up any more than he already has."

 

I nod.  "So what do you want me to do?"

 

He thinks about it for a moment.  "What are you doing for the rest of the Games?"

 

I think back to what Effie told us and reply, "I'm supposed to join the other families and watch the rest of the Games with some victors, so the Capitol can watch our reactions or something like that."

 

He nods.  "That's what I thought.  Nothing really important then."

 

I shrug my shoulders.  I agree with him.

 

"So you're going to get a promotion, sweetheart, to mentor.  Don't even have to go through the Games to do it.  Congratulations."

 

"What?"  I ask stupidly.   "Me?  A mentor?"

 

"Yep.  This way I can keep an eye on you and our two kids in that damned Arena.   And even better, Snow can't surprise you without someone with you who knows how the snake operates." He sounds so pleased with himself.

 

I decide it's not worth fighting over and frankly I'd rather be here than forced to watch the Games with everyone watching my every move and emotion.  "Okay, so what am I going to need to do?"

 

"Nothing major, sweetheart.  Just pay attention and learn.   And don't make waves."  He pulls a pocket watch out of his pants pocket and glances at it.  "We should be heading back.  Don't want to raise too much suspicion."

 

We go back inside and Haymitch tells Cecelia that she can go.   The woman smiles and hands me the headphones.  "Don't let him push you around too much, Katniss.  He's got a big enough of a head as it is.  And if he does, you just tell Effie to come find me.  I'll get him to cool down," she says before walking out.  

 

Haymitch chuckles a little at what she says and gives her a little salute.

 

I'm a little sorry to see her go.  I like the woman with her personable nature and motherly appearance.  She's funny in a self-deprecating kind of way and is full of good advice and helpful tips.     

 

I get settled and turn my focus to the screens in front of me.  For the first time, I can follow Prim around without being beholden to what the Gamemakers think makes good television.  

 

She and Peeta have ventured away from the main group.  Next to me, Haymitch lets out a little whoop and punches a button and starts talking rapidly to the person on the other end telling them that it's time to send out the hovercraft with the sponsorship gift.  

 

I was right earlier, they are going upstream to a narrower section of the stream to gather the nets they'd placed there the night before.   They land three good sized trout and move a little further upstream to a quiet, shaded section of the stream to reset the nets.  

 

A familiar tinkling comes through the headset I'm wearing.   A sponsorship parachute.

 

Peeta and Prim hear it too.  They look up and watch the parachute glide toward them.

 

When it lands only a few feet away from the two, they reach out and turn off the beacon and open the package.   The cookies Haymitch and I had been talking about are revealed.   There are only two of them, one for each tribute.  One has a yellow primrose flower painted on it while the other is decorated with a light lavender katniss flower. 

 

Prim claps her hands and goes, "Cookies!"  She holds the primrose one up.  "And just like the one I didn't get a chance to eat at home."

 

Peeta frowns.   He knows that there's something meaningful about that statement but he's trying to figure it out.   For a second, I wonder if I've suggested something that's too obscure.  He picks up his cookie, the one with the katniss flower on it, and whispers, "Katniss."

 

His eyes widen for a moment and in that instant he looks panicked and I know he's figured out the message.  He knows I'm here in the Capitol and he's guessed at what that means.   Then, I watch as he carefully schools his features.  "They must have done the interviews, Prim, for us to get these."

 

Looking up from her cookie, she asks, "Why do you say that?"

 

He gives a smile that I know must be forced but doesn't look it.  "Because of these, silly!  I'm sure my dad told them all about me making the three of you cookies.  And I bet Katniss told them all about you not getting to eat yours.  So someone nice in the Capitol went out of their way to make sure you got your cookie." He carefully shifts a little closer to Prim.  "I only got one so I wouldn't feel left out.  We'd better eat these now before the rest of the group sees them."

 

"But I wanted to share my cookie with Rue!"

 

"That's sweet of you, Prim, but what about Rani and Thresh?  Do you want them to feel left out?"

 

My sister considers this.  "No.  But you could share your cookie with Rani and I could give a little of mine to Thresh."

 

Peeta shakes his head.  "That isn't going to work.   These were gifts for you and me.  From the Capitol.   If the people in the Capitol wanted Rue and Rani and Thresh to each have a cookie they'd have sent one for each of them.  They only sent one for you and one for me.  Do you know why that is?"

 

Prim screws up her face into a pout, but she nods her head.  "They want you and me to win."

 

"That's right.  They want us to win and even though we like Rani and Rue and Thresh only two of us get to go home."

 

Beside me, Haymitch lets out an explosive sigh.  "Finally!  The boy gets it."

 

"So now what?" I ask.

 

"Now we work on getting these two kids home.  That alliance of theirs ain't gonna last much longer."

 

I nod.  I can see that, now that it's down to just seven tributes left, the alliance is likely to break soon.  I can only hope that Rue, Thresh and Rani are going to hold true to their promise and not attack as soon as the alliance breaks or in the case of Rani launch a preemptive strike with those berries of hers.   Clearing my head of things I can't control, I focus my attention back on my sister.

 

She's eating the cookie slowly with careful little bites.   Peeta watches her with a wistful expression on his face.  When she finishes the cookie, he hands the one with the katniss flower on it to her.  "Here, take it."

 

"But it's for you!" she protests.

 

"But you look like you need it more.  You've had a hard day."

 

"Peeta Mellark, stop treating me like a baby!" Prim says, crossing her arms and scowling at him.  "I am your partner.  Got it?  Not some kid to be taken care of.  Now the Capitol sent us two cookies.  Two!   They wanted you to have one too.  Or do you want the Capitol to think you're not grateful for their gift?"

 

Haymitch does a little dance in his seat next to me.   "Remind me to give that sister of yours a little hug when she gets home.   She told that boy but good."

 

"She's good at that," I say with a smile on my face.  "You don't expect it from her, because she's so sweet, but she's not stupid either."

 

"That she ain't," Haymitch agrees with me.

 

Back in the Arena, Peeta sighs and takes a bite out of the cookie.  Then he looks down at it with an odd expression on his face.

 

"It's not as good as the ones your father bakes, is it?" Prim asks, deciphering his expression.

 

"It's not bad," Peeta says diplomatically, taking another bite and chewing it thoughtfully.  "I think that they need to add a little less sugar and more butter and vanilla though."  He finishes the cookie.  "Or maybe some kind of citrus icing.  It needs something to cut through the sweet."

 

Prim nods.   "We should head back."

 

"Right.  The fish need to be cooked soon anyway."

 

When they get back, Rue looks up from the little cooking fire.   "There you are!  We were starting to get worried."

 

Peeta holds up the three trout.  "The nets were full and we decided to reset them a little further upstream.   Sorry we took so long."

 

Rue sniffs.  "It's a good thing you came back when you did.  I was about to send Thresh and Rani after you two."

 

"So is lunch ready?" he asks, changing the subject.

 

The little girl nods and takes the three fish from Peeta to clean and skewer over the fire to cook.  

 

Haymitch nudges me and points to his screen.   "You notice how they've each taken on a different role in the alliance.   Rue's the cook.  Prim's the medic.  Thresh is the warrior.  Rani's the scout.  And Peeta's the leader," he says, gesturing to each tribute in turn.  "You see, that's part of the problem."

 

I'm confused.  "Why is that a problem?  Don't the Careers do that?"

 

"Not to the same degree.  You see, the Careers, despite their allying early on, never fully trust one another.   This group does.   There's no worries about Rue poisoning everyone.  Thresh taking out people while they sleep.  And so on.  And then there's the boy."

 

"Peeta?"

 

"Yeah, him.  Most alliances work on a consensus basis.   This one, Peeta's the clear leader.  They may not have shown it out in the districts, but the rest of us here have seen it."

 

"They haven't shown it," I murmur and I wonder why not.

 

"Think about for a second, sweetheart.  It'll come to you."

 

And it does.   As I watch the camp go about their daily chores of cleaning, gathering firewood, purifying water, and setting watches I notice something.  All four of the other tributes check in with Peeta first before going and doing something and if Peeta vetoes the suggestion, like he did with Rani wanting to go set more snares, they don't argue.   It's a little surprising that these tributes from other districts, specifically Rani and Thresh, would listen to the son of a baker from Twelve.   And that's the problem in the Capitol's eyes.   Peeta has shown that he's a leader and what's more that he doesn't buy into the Capitol's propaganda.   To the Capitol, that's dangerous.  Too dangerous to let get out.

 

I glance up at the main screen showing the Games.   It's focusing on Cato and Clove, who are slowly walking through the wheat field toward the rocky cliffs on the far side.  It's like I thought, so long as the Capitol has something else to focus on they aren't going to show all of Peeta's strengths.  

 

I look at Haymitch.  "Why?"  I can't fully articulate the question.  Why hasn't the Capitol taken Peeta out like they did with Tacoma? 

 

Haymitch shrugs and arches an eyebrow at me.  He doesn't know, but he's not going to complain either.   We both turn our eyes back to the Games.

 

A couple of hours later, when I look up at the room I notice that it's just gone down to the active mentors.   I glance over at Haymitch.

 

"Effie took 'em to get some grub.   Figured you'd want to stay here."

 

I nod.   "I am hungry."

 

"Figured.   I ordered lunch for us a few minutes ago.  It should be here shortly."

 

A few minutes later, the elevator opens and an avox steps out.   He's carrying a large tray with two carafes of liquid and a large round plate with something steaming on it.  He places it on a portable tray that he's carrying on one elbow and hands us each a plate.  The steaming food is some kind of round flatbread with a white cheese, tomato sauce, and what looks like different kinds of meat spread all over on top.   It's cut into eight equal slices and Haymitch picks up the one with the most meat on it and takes a bite.  

 

"It ain't fancy like most of the Capitol slop," he says with his mouth full.  "But it'll fill you up and keep you going."

 

I shrug my shoulders and grab a slice.  It's heavy and greasy and I can only manage to get a few mouthfuls down before grabbing a glass of water.  The food sits like a rock in my stomach and I'm debating throwing up.  

 

Haymitch watches me eat with amusement.  "Not to your delicate sensibilities, sweetheart?" he asks me, waving over the avox, who has retreated to one of the corners of the room.   "Perhaps we can get you something a little more to your liking."

 

The man walks over and cocks his head at us, waiting for an order.  "Maybe some fruit?" I ask, trying to think of something light that won't set off my stomach.   "And some of that salad from the banquet with Seneca Crane?  And some tea?  Please?"

 

The avox nods and takes away my plate with the half-eaten slice on it.   Good.  I don't ever want to have that again.

 

While Haymitch eats, I turn my attention back to the Games.   I can see that it's getting on toward mid-afternoon where the Arena is and other than Thresh, who is on watch, the remaining four members of the alliance are all taking a quick nap.  

 

Or three of them are. 

 

Rani is lying on her side, with her eyes open.  She's gnawing at her lower lip as if she's debating something.   She rolls over and looks at Peeta sadly.   Her eyes take in every detail of his face, like she's memorizing it.   It's unnerving. 

 

Haymitch notices it too.  "That girl's got a fierce debate goin' on with herself.  And you know that ain't gonna be good."

 

"She's got nightlock," I whisper to him.  "Why hasn't she used it?"

 

"Who knows?  That could be what she's debating.  Rue does most of the cooking so she'd have to find a way to slip it past that little girl without raising suspicion."  He shrugs.  "Or it could be she's got somethin' else planned for them berries."

 

I can't think of what that might be so I watch Rani struggle with her thoughts.  About a half hour later, she seems to come to a decision.

 

She sits up and shakes Peeta awake.  "I've got to talk to you."

 

He sits up quickly and moves away from where Rue and Prim are still sleeping.   "What's wrong?"

 

She looks down at her fingers and then back up at Peeta.   "I've been thinking."  She takes a deep breath.  "I think it's time we end this alliance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written 7/26/13  
> Revised 10/31/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre.
> 
> Sorry for the wait. My brain has been dead and I haven't been able to write or even revise lately. It's just insanely busy. I'm still busy but guilt is a great motivator. I'm still burned out at the moment so haven't added anything to the fic in over a month. So no clue when the next update will be.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty Six**

 

To Peeta's credit, he doesn't scream "What?" like half of the people watching in Mentor Central do, including me.   He regards Rani seriously for several moments before asking, "You've thought about this?"

 

The girl from Five nods.  "Yeah, pretty much since before Ten attacked.  It's just afterward that it's really been circling around in my brain."

 

"You know it's not just my decision," he says after several moments.

 

"But you're thinking it too, aren't you?" she asks, her eyes bright.

 

He leans forward, unzipping the sleeping bag so he can get out of it.  "I'm thinking that this isn't a conversation we should be having privately," he says, sidestepping her question.  "Why don't you wake up Prim and Rue and I'll go get Thresh, then we can all say what we need to say?  Okay?"

 

"Okay," she agrees.

 

"Meet us at the front of the cave," he instructs her.  "No point in letting Two get the drop on us while we're talking.  I've got a hunch that we're going to get a bit loud."

 

She smiles at him sadly.  "Probably.  You know how your partner gets."

 

"I do," he says softly. "She's like her sister that way.  They're both so determined to protect those they care about."

 

Rani's smile becomes more fixed and, if possible, even sadder at his words.  "We'd better get a move on."

 

He nods and leaves the cave to go get Thresh.

 

I sit back in my chair and stare at the screen in front of me.  I've known that this break has been coming.  Had to come, if Prim is to come home, but I'm still sad to see it happening.   I've grown attached to the group and don't want any of them to die.  I can't imagine how my sister is going to feel. I think that upset is going to be an understatement.   I watch Rani wake Rue and Prim up while on another screen Peeta is fetching Thresh.   Both Rani and Peeta are evasive with the others about why they're having a meeting.  Probably because there's no point in having the same argument more than once. 

 

When they are all assembled outside the entrance of the cave, Peeta gets the meeting started.  "Rani's got a proposition for all of us and I think that we all need to hear it and discuss it."  He half turns to the girl from Five, indicating that she should speak.

 

As before, she looks down at her feet before speaking as if summoning up her courage.  "I told Peeta that I think we should end this alliance."

 

Like I expected, Prim and Rue are the first to express their displeasure. 

 

"No!" Prim exclaims.

 

While at the same time Rue asks, "But why?"

 

Rani looks over at Peeta who gives her a shrug.   It's her show.  

 

"Because I don't want to fight you," Rani says slowly.

 

"But you wouldn't have to!  We made a deal!  No killing of anyone in the alliance after we separate.   We just see who outlasts the others," Prim protests.

 

"Unless someone tries to kill you first," Thresh adds.  "Isn't that what you told me, Rue?"

 

"That's right!"  Rue pipes up.

 

Thresh fixes Rani with a hard look.  "You thinking of trying to kill us?"

 

Rani rolls her eyes.  "No, I'm not.  But we might not get a choice.  The Gamemakers could make us."

 

Thresh narrows his eyes.  "I don't see how."

 

"Do you remember what they taught us about the Third Hunger Games?" she asks the group softly. 

 

The other four nod but don't say anything, although they each have thoughtful expressions on their faces.  

 

As well they should.  The Third Hunger Games were the Games where the tributes refused to fight and the Capitol forced them to by threatening their families.   It only took the Gamemakers sending the protesting tributes loved ones body parts as sponsorship gifts before the tributes started cooperating and killing each other again.   The Capitol spun it so that it sounded like they were merciful for only torturing a few people and not killing them, but it really was just another reminder of the power the Capitol has over us.  

 

Rani has a point, their plan of not hurting each other is likely to get thrown out the moment they start torturing one of us.  And I'm sure the Capitol knows that, in fact, it is likely the main reason Snow brought us to the Capitol. It's a preemptive strike and it's likely one of the reasons Haymitch was so determined to make sure Peeta knew we were here.   It wasn't just so he'd stop being inflammatory, although that was certainly a part of it.  It was so he'd make the hard choice to break the alliance early before the body parts started to come off.

 

But Peeta didn't have to, Rani's doing it for him.  

 

Prim still isn't buying into it.  "I can't see them doing that.   They'd be more likely to release mutts.  I think we should still stick together."

 

This time, it's Thresh who speaks.  "Girl's got a point.   I got less riding on this alliance and I got no qualms with killing any of you all if it means me and the little girl get to go home."

 

"Hey!  I am not little!"  Rue protests.

 

He pokes the top of her head with his finger.  "You are compared to me, and don't change the subject.   Rani's right, it's time this alliance ends and we start looking out for ourselves."

 

"But what about the Careers?  The two most dangerous ones are still left!" Prim argues.

 

Rani looks over at her sadly.  "You aren't going to like what I'm going to say."

 

Prim interrupts, "I already don't like it!"

 

"But I'm going to say it anyway," the red-haired girl continues, ignoring Prim's outburst.  "I think it might be easier if one or more of us were taken out fighting the Careers than if we were forced to fight each other."  She looks at each of them in turn, her gaze lingering on Prim and Peeta.  "I don't want to be forced to kill you for the Capitol's pleasure."

 

"So don't!  I'm not going to fight you and that's that!"  Prim stomps her foot for emphasis.

 

"But what if they started showing your sister being tortured?" the older girl counters.    "What if they threatened her baby?  And the only way you could make the torture stop was to kill me.  What would you do?"  Rani stares at Prim, willing her to understand.  

 

And finally Prim does.  She wrenches her gaze away from the girl from Five and throws herself into Peeta's arms, sobbing.  

 

He holds her close, rubbing small circles on her back.  He hasn't said anything so far other than to let Rani argue her case.  But now he speaks, "I think that it's time we take a break.  It's getting late and emotions are running high.  Besides, I think that we all should sleep on it and make our decision in the morning."

 

"Sounds fair," Thresh says with a nod.  "So how're we going to do this?"

 

Peeta thinks about it for a moment.  He's still got Prim in his arms, so it looks a little odd.  "I think each of us votes for or against Rani's proposal.   Majority rules.  If the vote goes for the proposal, we will then divide up the supplies equally between all five of us and set off at one hour intervals.  And we all agree that we don't kill each other tomorrow but after that, anything goes.  If the vote goes against the proposal, we stick to the original plan, we stick together until the Careers are taken out.  Then we separate as agreed on before and we don't try to kill each other." He looks at Rue, Thresh, and Rani.  "Does that work for you?"

 

The three nod.

 

He pulls away from Prim and looks down at her.  "What about you, Prim?"

 

"I still don't like it," she says with a sniff.  "But it's fair."

 

"Then that's what we'll do," Peeta decides.  "I think we should gather up all of the snares and nets we have set now and bring them and anything they've caught back to camp while it's still light.  They're resources and we don't want to leave them out if we need to divvy up supplies."

 

"Good thinking, Twelve," Thresh says approvingly.  

 

"Someone's got to, right?  Is there anything else I'm forgetting?" he asks the group.

 

Rue makes a face.  "Just one.  I think anything made with Prim's sponsorship gift should go with her.  The same goes for any other sponsorship gifts any of us might have gotten."

 

"Are you holding back on us, little girl?"  Thresh wants to know.

 

Rue shakes her head.  "No, I haven't got anything.  But I didn't know if you or Rani hadn't gotten something.  You didn't join us right away," she points out.  "I just figured you should keep what the sponsors sent you.  Don't want to make them angry."

 

The words are an eerie echo of Peeta's own thoughts from only a few hours ago.  So it is of no surprise when he says, "That's a good idea, Rue.   But we can talk about it tomorrow.  We don't want to get ahead of ourselves."

 

The other four all nod and split up into two groups to collect the snares and nets they have set.  It takes them maybe an hour, during which I eat my replacement lunch and talk with Haymitch. 

 

I'm getting restless from being cooped up here in the Capitol and excuse myself to go up onto the roof.  I sit down on one of the benches provided and just let myself think.   I miss my woods and the comfort and security I have there.

 

There's only seven tributes left.   Four, if you count the district partners as one tribute.   My sister is very close to coming home, but it almost seems like she's further away now than at the start of the Games.  

 

That's because Rani is right, the Capitol will make them fight.  I know it would break my sister if she were forced to choose between hurting her friends and watching me get hurt.   She might choose to take the third option: suicide.  That's the option I am afraid she'll take if forced.   And I don't know what to do to make her not pick that option.  

 

My stomach flips and churns and not all of it is the baby, who's started to move more in earnest.   I stroke my belly, trying to calm the child within me as well as myself.  But it's a futile gesture, I'm not calm, so my daughter isn't calm.   I sit back on the bench and lean my head against the railing behind me.  

 

"Haymitch said I'd find you up here."  A deep masculine voice penetrates my consciousness.

 

I turn and look over to see Finnick Odair standing casually at the top of the stairs.   He's alone and dressed more conservatively than I've ever seen him before in a simple checked linen shirt and loose tan pants.   I wonder if this is his preferred clothing style, rather than the skintight chest baring numbers I'm used to seeing him in.  

 

"What do you want?" I ask.  It comes out ruder than I intended, but I don't apologize for my tone. 

 

He holds his hands up.  "Easy, Katniss!  I'm not here to set you off.  Haymitch mentioned you were up here and that you seemed upset.  So I figured I'd come talk to you."

 

"Why?  What does it matter to you?"

 

He sits down next to me, resting his arms on his thighs.  "Because I've been where you are," he answers, his voice soft.

 

I feel my anger rise within me and I embrace it.  Anger I can deal with, this overwhelming sense of helplessness not so much.   "Oh, so you know what I'm feeling?  And that's supposed to make it all better?  The great and wonderful Finnick Odair knows what I'm feeling, I'm sorry but that's a load of crap," I snap.  "You have no idea what I'm going through.  And until you're pregnant, held hostage by the Capitol as a guarantee for your sister's and some guy you hardly know's good behavior, coerced into a role you want nothing to do with, and then forced to watch it, the whole time knowing there's nothing you can do to make it better.  Then, maybe, you can have some inkling of what I'm going through."

 

I expect him to get defensive or angry.  Instead, he throws back his head and starts laughing.  "Cinna warned me you had a temper on you.  I should have believed him."

 

I feel a flash of annoyance that Cinna, the one person from the Capitol I've grown to like, has been talking about me to Finnick.  "I'm not sorry to spoil your impression of me.  I'm sick of playing who the Capitol wants me to be."

 

"And again, I get it," he repeats.

 

My eyes narrow.  

 

He leans forward again, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.  "Other than the being pregnant, which I don't have the equipment for, everything else you mentioned I have gone through."

 

"I don't believe you," I state flatly.  

 

"Doesn't make it any less true," he says.   "Did you know Annie and I grew up together?  That she's my sister Marion's best friend?  That..." he trails off and looks over at the flower pot next to him.  "That she's one of my best friends too?" he finishes sadly, turning back to me and staring at me with those sea-green eyes of his.  "She's also the only tribute I've been able to get out of the Arena since I've been a mentor."

 

I shake my head.  "I didn't know.  Who else did you lose?" I would have remembered if there had been any tributes with the last name of Odair in the Games the announcers would have harped on it like they did with Glimmer this year.

 

He sighs.  "My best friend from training.  Dominick Flaherty.  He was Reaped two years after me.  The year I..." he pauses again, as if trying to find the right words.

 

He doesn't need to.  "The year you became the Capitol's wonder boy," I supply.

 

Finnick nods, giving me a grateful little smile.  "I didn't want to, of course," he says.  "I was encouraged to cooperate.  Dom was killed by a trap around one of the few waterholes in that Arena: a trident that shot from the water and impaled him.  The meaning was clear but even so I was told that if I didn't want that to happen to someone else I cared about that I should rethink my priorities."

 

"So you rethought them."

 

"I had to."  He leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs.   "You see, I'm the eldest, too.  I've got three younger sisters and a little brother.  Two of them are still young enough to be Reaped.  Mom died in childbirth with Niall so it's just Dad and he's gone most of the time out on his fishing boat."

 

"So you raised your siblings," I state. 

 

"Like you did with Prim," he agrees. 

 

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

 

"Don't be.  You didn't know.  It's not like you're secretly stalking me."  He pauses and grins at me.  "You're not secretly stalking me, are you?"

 

I snort.  "You're not really my type."

 

He mock places his hand over his heart. "I'm crushed.   I don't think I'll recover!  I think I'll throw myself off of this very roof."

 

"Oh stop!  Besides, it's probably got a force field to prevent it."

 

He tears a flower from the pot next to him and tosses it over the edge.  It doesn't return.   "Nope.  It looks like you're wrong, Katniss.  So I shall follow that flower to an early death."  He gets up onto the bench and places one foot on the railing.

 

"Oh, sit down," I say, rolling my eyes.

 

"And why ever not?   The most sought out woman in the Capitol tells me that I'm not her type.  Me.  Finnick Odair.  The most handsome man alive according to several magazines.   I don't think my ego can recover."

 

I smirk at him.  "Sounds like your ego needs some deflating." 

 

"I'm hurt," he says, returning my smirk with one of his own.  "And you're not dwelling on your sister now, are you?" he asks, while climbing down off of the bench and coming to stand in front of me.

 

I look up at him and realize that his over the top playacting and banter have made me forget my nervousness about Prim.   "How did you deal with it?" I ask.  "With Dom and then again with Annie?"

 

He holds his hand out to me and motions for me to stand up.  I take it and let him pull me up.  It's not horrible yet, but I'm starting to feel the differences in my center of gravity as I get larger.   Finnick leads me to the same spot Haymitch did earlier.  I raise an eyebrow at him.

 

"We don't want to be overheard," he says softly.

 

I look around but don't see any cameras or anyone who could overhear us.   I turn back to him, confused.  

 

"The benches are bugged," he explains.  "Not sure where.  But I don't feel like giving them any more than I already do." 

 

That makes sense and I wish I'd known that earlier.   "So how did you cope?" I repeat my question from earlier. 

 

"Short answer is, what choice do you have?" he says, making nervous gestures with his hands.   "But that's not the answer you're looking for, is it?"

 

I shake my head.  "No, it's not."

 

"Didn't think so."  He smiles sadly.  "I tried to find an escape.  And if that doesn't work, a friend.  Mags helps a lot."

 

"Helps?"  I'm surprised that the word is in the present tense.

 

"Helps.  Still."  He sighs.  "That's the problem with being a Career, and yes I know what we're called in the other districts," he says forestalling my next question.  "Most of Career trainees know each other.  Granted, it's not as formalized in Four like it is in One or Two and we don't volunteer unless someone really unsuitable is called, but we all still train with each other over the winter.  And most of us start when we're seven or eight not four or five like in One or Two."

 

"When did you start?" I want to know.

 

"When I was ten," he answers.   "Mom died the year before and the trainers help out with extra food for the trainees.  With Mom gone and Dad having to take a lower paying job to stay home with us kids, we needed all the help we could get."

 

I nod.  I understand.  If Twelve had had a system like that after my father died, I would have signed up for it, so I can't really blame Finnick and the other Careers from Four for doing the same.  "What do you do for an escape?" I'm hoping he'll be able to give me an idea of what I can do to deal with these Games.  

 

"I can't do what I want to do," he answers.  "So mostly I tie knots or talk to the other victors."

 

"Mags and Annie and the other victors from Four?"

 

"Mags, yes.  Annie, I don't like to burden her.  She's got her own demons.  But mostly I talk to Haymitch and Johanna and Cecelia."

 

I think about the pretty brown haired woman from Four I'd met earlier and I remember that she went crazy after her district partner was beheaded during her Games.  Knowing what I do now about Finnick, watching that must have been agony for him.  "I didn't think Haymitch had any friends."

 

Finnick flashes the grin that he's known for, but this time it looks real.  "He tries not to.  But he helped me during Annie's Games, it's my turn to return the favor."

 

"Is that why he sent you up here?" I want to know.

 

"Caught me, huh?" he asks without a smidgeon of guilt in his voice.

 

I shrug.  "It wasn't hard."

 

"He asked me to talk to you, I admit.  But I would have done it on my own regardless because Annie likes you."

 

I shrug.  "She's nice."

 

He nods.  "She also told me about your idea for a second Cornucopia or hidden stashes and how you talked with her at dinner when I couldn't be there."

 

"It wasn't a big deal," I protest.  

 

"Maybe not to you."  He shrugs.  "So are you ready to grab something to eat?"

 

That's it.  I'm sick of people trying to feed me.  "What is it with everyone trying to shove food into my mouth every five minutes?"

 

Finnick looks taken aback.  "Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?" he asks.  "I mean, really looked at yourself?" he adds when I start to protest. 

 

I think about it.  I haven't.  We don't have a full length mirror at home.  Just a speckled hand mirror that my mother uses to do her hair.   Since I've been here in the Capitol, I haven't bothered other than to make sure I don't have something stuck between my teeth.   I know what I look like.  I don't need a mirror to tell me that I'm thin.   I've always been thin.  

 

Taking my silence as an admission of guilt, Finnick makes his point.  "You look like you're nothing more than skin and bones with a huge belly.  I know you're not that far along, but your size makes it look like you're further along than you are."

 

"It wasn't this bad a week ago," I grouse.

 

"You've popped," he says simply and when I look at him funny he adds, "Hey, I said I was the eldest of five. I remember my mom popping too.  One day she looked like Mom, the next she looked like she had a pillow shoved under her clothes.  It was weird."

 

I stop and think about it. Looking down at my stomach, I see that he's right.  It has gotten a lot bigger than I remember it being.   I must have 'popped' since coming to the Capitol.  "I'm eating," I say after several moments. 

 

"Haymitch said you didn't like the pizza and only ate and I'm quoting here 'rabbit food.'"

 

"Is that what that was?" I ask, referring to the strange covered flatbread.   "It was really greasy and heavy.  I didn't feel like throwing up."

 

"Hence the reason I'm asking if you want something to eat. If it bothers you so much, I'll back off.  But I could go for something before I take over so Haymitch can get some sleep.  He wants to be back on early for the vote."

 

That brings me up short.  "You're going to watch over Prim?" I ask incredulously.

 

"Have been since Peeta knocked out Coral in the bloodbath," he answers.

 

"And you aren't upset about that?" I'm not sure I believe what I'm hearing.  

 

Finnick shakes his head.  "It's the Games and she was trying to kill him.   I can't blame him for defending himself.  Besides, Haymitch has helped me out in the past after his tributes got knocked out.  Especially in the Seventieth Games."

 

Annie's year, I remind myself.  

 

"So are you up for some food?" he asks again.

 

I sigh.  He's persistent, I'll give him that.  "Fine.   But nothing too heavy or spicy."

 

"Cinna said you liked the lamb stew."

 

Stifling the sigh that threatens to come out, I say, "It was good.  But it sounds too heavy right now."

 

He nods.  "What about fish?  Too heavy?   They make this incredible shrimp stuffed snapper with sugar snap peas, it's really good.  Trust me, I'm from Four, I know my seafood."

 

I shrug my shoulders.  Fish sounds fine but I don't want to seem too accepting so I add a condition of my own.  "So long as I can get some cheese buns.  I'm in the mood for cheese buns."  And as if saying the words is enough, I am.  "And apples.  Green ones.   Not red or yellow."

 

"Pregnancy cravings?"

 

I snort.  "You're the one who was pestering me to eat," I point out.  

 

He sketches a mocking little bow at me.  "Very true."  Finnick holds out his arm to me.  "Shall we go?"

 

I give him a look and brush past him and glance back over my shoulder at him.   "I told you before, you aren't my type."

 

"So what is your type?" he asks with a knowing grin.  "Peeta, perhaps?"

 

Thinking of the blond haired boy who saved my life and is now trying save my sister's, I can't keep the blush from my cheeks.  It annoys me that Finnick can get this reaction out of me so I shoot back, "You sound really upset you're not my type.  Poor bruised ego of yours.   Peeta at least has a better chance with me than you do."  I'm surprised to realize that it's true.  That surprises me. 

 

The surprise must show on my face because Finnick bursts out laughing.   "Girl!  If I didn't know better, I'd say you only just realized you like our Mockingjay boy."

 

"Mockingjay boy?" I ask, trying to change the subject.  "Where'd that come from?"

 

"That pin he's wearing," Finnick explains.  "And his ability to follow the mockingjay calls to their source.  It'd be better if he could carry a tune, but that's asking too much now, isn't it?"

 

I grunt non-committally.  "So are we going to go eat?" I want to know.  "Or are we just going to stand around talking about Peeta?"

 

"I don't know," he replies with a grin.  "I think standing around and talking about Peeta could be more fun.  But Effie'll have my hide if I don't feed you."

 

I smirk even though I can't imagine Effie being all that scary.  "Can't have that now?"

 

"Nope!" he answers brightly.   "Come on fair lady, your dinner awaits!"  He holds his arm out to me again and grins at me.  

 

Rolling my eyes skyward at his impudence, I start down the stairs without taking his arm.   He might be charming but I'm not about to let Finnick Odair win.  Charm or no.  I have standards and I'm going to stick to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written 8/2/13  
> Revised 11/1/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

 

Dinner with Finnick is as delicious as he's promised as well as informative.  He's invited Annie and Mags along with the second oldest living victor, Easter Gaynor from Nine.  The four of them spend their time talking about the Games and how they've changed over the years.   Finnick and Easter have to translate for Mags, but it is clear that they'd been doing it for a while and it barely slows the conversation down.  

 

Both Mags and Easter remember life before there was a Hunger Games, the so-called Dark Days I've heard mentioned so many times at the Reaping.   The times were hard, war always is, and both Mags and Easter had lost family in the rebellion, Mags her father and Easter her oldest sister.   I suspect that they aren't supposed to tell anyone about those times, but I don't care.   It is good to hear of a time before the fences and Peacekeepers and Hunger Games.   But also hearing about the problems the rebels faced after Thirteen was destroyed, makes me understand why no one has rebelled against the horror of the Hunger Games.   There weren't that many people left to rebel.  For the first ten or so years after the Dark Days, most kids grew up in orphanages because they didn't have anyone else who could take care of them.   The Capitol killed anyone suspected of being a part of the rebellion.  It was a chaotic time with most of the districts focused on survival.  

 

I wonder why they are telling me about this, but decide that I am better off not knowing their real reasons.   They are just two old ladies telling the younger generation about how life was harder in their time.  Or that is the story they are going with.

 

We finish up and Finnick says goodbye to go take over for Haymitch in Mentor Central.  Easter and Mags leave to go back to their quarters in the training center, which leaves me alone with Annie.  

 

We sit in silence for a few minutes, with both of us picking at the crumbs of our dessert, an orange flavored cake with rich butter cream icing.   I'm not sure what to say and she doesn't seem to be in any hurry to talk.   I appreciate that, I've been talking far too much for my liking lately.  

 

An avox comes over to pick up our plates and I glance up reflexively and gasp.   I know her!   I can never forget the dark red hair and the beautiful face of the woman I condemned to this.   Her accusatory and hopeless expression caused me to have nightmares for weeks after she and her companion were captured.   I open my mouth to apologize for not helping her back then.   I need to say something.

 

She must see the expression on my face because she shakes her head at me frantically, trying to prevent me from speaking.   I frown wondering what the problem is, then I remember Effie's explanation from earlier.  Avoxes are considered traitors and criminals by the Capitol.   She must think that if I say anything I'll make things worse for her and for me as well. 

 

Annie looks up from her plate and notices the silent exchange between the avox woman and myself.   "What's going on?" she asks.

 

I don't know how to explain and find myself glancing around the dining room nervously.  I hadn't really paid attention to who was eating in the cafeteria earlier since I was so engrossed in Mags's and Easter's stories.  But now I wish I had.   I can see a few other victors eating at tables along the edge of the room.  They aren't the ones that concern me, the trio of Gamemakers only two tables away does, their raucous clothing and hair betray their Capitol origins as does the way that they watch the rest of us with a smug sense of superiority.   They'd be happy to report to Snow that the sister of Primrose Everdeen and supposed girlfriend of Peeta Mellark knows an avox.  

 

Annie sees my nervousness and doesn't push.  Instead, she turns to the avox.   "When you're finished with those, we need you to make up two of the beds in the women's mentor sleep room here," she orders the red-haired avox.  "I don't know when someone last changed the sheets in there and I don't want to be sleeping in someone else's sweat or worse!"

 

I look at the woman from Four sharply; her tone is very different from the soft almost dreamy tones she normally uses.   This sounds almost Capitol-like.   I'm surprised.

 

For her part, the avox woman nods her eyes showing her gratitude.   I'm guessing Annie has given her a reason for the long wait.  I still want to apologize, so I stand up to go first to the bathroom and then the sleep room.   Annie follows me.   I'm annoyed that I've seemed to pick up a babysitter of some form and guess that it's Haymitch who's ordered one of the mentors keep an eye on me.   Probably to keep me from doing something that'd screw up his chances of getting Prim and Peeta home.  Like I'd do anything to jeopardize that.

 

We get to the mentor sleep room and the avox woman is already there.   The room has two bunk beds, one along each wall.  Each bed is made up with a simple blue comforter and white sheets.   There's a dresser at the end of each bed and a small bathroom at the far end.   

 

I take this in and make sure that we're alone before approaching the woman.   She's got a pile of sheets on the floor and is bent over one of the beds, making it with a clean set of sheets.

 

She looks up at me questioningly and I can't stop the words from spilling from my mouth, "I'm sorry!"

 

She frowns and shakes her head.  

 

I think she doesn't understand so I try again.  "I'm sorry for that day in the woods.  I didn't help you.   I was too scared."

 

The avox stops what she's doing and comes over to me.  She places a finger on my lips to tell me to stop talking then she looks over at Annie, the expression on her face worried and questioning at the same time.

 

The other woman shrugs.  "I won't say anything.  But you know..." she trails off and glances around the room to show that she doesn't know if it is bugged.  Knowing the Capitol, it likely is.  

 

The avox nods, satisfied at the answer and turns back to me.  She motions that I don't have anything to feel sorry for.  She mouths the words too, but somehow her gestures are what get through to me.  

 

"What's your name?" I can't stop myself from asking.  It's like I feel compelled to know.  Maybe it's because if the hovercraft had seen me that day I'd be like her.  Maybe it's because I now feel obligated to her.  She must have never mentioned Gale and me seeing her in the woods that day.  She'd saved my life when I doomed her.   I owe her now, too.  

 

The avox shakes her head.

 

Annie steps in to explain.  "They aren't allowed names, Katniss.  It's part of their punishment.  Avoxes are to be nameless, faceless, silent workers.   They aren't even considered human by most of the people here."

 

I look at the red-haired woman sadly.  "Please, what was your name?"

 

Glancing around the room again, she reaches forward and clasps my hand in hers, palm up.   With the finger of her other hand she slowly spells out "L" "A" "V" "I" "N" "I" "A," "Lavinia" in the palm of my hand.  It takes a moment for it to sink in.  The name is Capitol in origin.   She was running away from the comforts of the Capitol for some reason, making it all the way out to District Twelve before getting caught.  It makes me wonder why and it also makes me wonder just where she was running to.  

 

I open my mouth to ask when she stops me with a shake of her head.  No more questions.   She finishes making the bed and gathers up the dirty linens.   In the doorway, she turns and looks back at me.  Our eyes meet and she smiles shyly at me.  

 

I feel a wave of relief assault me.  I recognize that smile for what it is, forgiveness.  She doesn't blame me for not helping her, she understands.   And now I know her name.  It somehow helps.  

 

After Lavinia leaves, Annie bundles me into bed, herding me through changing into a simple nightgown and brushing my teeth.  I try protesting but she won't have any of that.   When we're both changed, she pushes me under the covers and then slips in next to me.   I protest again in earnest and she shushes me.  "Quiet, Katniss!  We don't want anyone to overhear!"

 

I stop trying to push her out of the bed and scoot closer to the wall to give her more room.  She rolls toward me but keeps a small distance between us so we can talk and see the other's face in the dim light.  

 

"How do you know that girl?" she asks when we've settled.  She keeps her voice low but doesn't whisper.   This is good.  Whispers carry more than talking in the dark.  

 

In a similar tone, I tell her the story of how Gale and I were hunting in the woods and the whole forest went quiet.  That because of our training we took cover and saw a girl, Lavinia, and a boy running through the trees.   Then the hovercraft came and speared the boy, killing him instantly, and then captured the girl.  I know she saw me and I remember her tears and screams for help.   I keep thinking that I should have done something to help but at the time all I could think about was my own safety.  

 

Annie listens to the whole thing without comment, then reaches over to give me a quick hug.   "You couldn't have done anything," she tells me.

 

"You don't know that," I hiss.

 

She shakes her head.  "I do know that.   You think I don't feel the same way about Finn?"  Her eyes go blank for a moment and she shudders at the memory.   In a higher pitched more distant voice, she speaks.  "I see the girl from Seven who killed him rise up behind him and swing her axe.   I could have shouted a warning, pushed him out of the way, but all I do is stand there.   Then the blood, the metallic smelling sticky blood is all over me and I'm screaming.   I know it's not him but I can't stop my mind from putting his face on Finn's head and..." she trails off into sobs, rocking herself gently.

 

I don't know what to do.  I remember that her district partner was named Finn which sounds very similar to Finnick.  Then, I remember what Finnick told me up on the roof, that he and Annie had grown up together and were friends.   From what I can figure out of her ramblings, she thought Finnick had been killed, superimposing his face on to that of her dead district partner's.   I wonder if I should go get Finnick in Mentor Central, but then who will watch Prim? 

 

I lay there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what I should do without finding any other solution.  Annie is still shaking and shuddering and unresponsive.  Making my mind up, I climb over the hysterical woman and try to stand up.   I don't succeed because Annie wraps her arms around my waist and holds on tight.  Her arms press against the swell of my belly and my daughter kicks against the pressure.   She doesn't like it and neither do I.

 

"Don't!" she cries out through the tears. 

 

I interpret her one word cry to be a plea not to leave her alone.  "I'm going to get Finnick," I say, trying to soothe her so she'll let go of me.  

 

"Finnick is dead!   They're all dead.  I don't want to be alone!"  she sobs even louder. 

 

I'm starting to lose my patience.  Ever since my mother disappeared after my father died, I don't have a lot of sympathy for people who can't move on from the past.  "Finnick isn't dead!" I snap in a low tone.  "And if you'll let go of me, I'll go get him to prove it to you."

 

"Finnick isn't dead?  Real?  Not real?"

 

I roll my eyes.  "Real.  He's upstairs in Mentor Central.  I'll go get him."

 

She shakes her head and clutches me tighter.   "I don't want to be alone.  The shadows come when I'm alone."

 

I sigh at the thought of dragging a hysterical woman upstairs and into Mentor Central, but I can't deal with her anymore.   A part me isn't happy with my decision, the part that wonders if Prim will be like this when she gets home.  But I know Prim, I tell myself.  I don't know Annie.  

 

I manage to get Annie upright and both of us on our feet.  She's leaning on me heavily, but we're standing and she's no longer clutched around my middle.   I lead her to the elevator and push the button for the top floor. 

 

When the door opens, everyone looks up and at us.  I know what they see, two women dressed in nightgowns one of them pregnant the other with wild eyes.  

 

"Annie!" Finnick cries from the Twelve cubicle.  

 

At the sound of his voice, Annie shudders and lets go of me.  "Finnick!"   She darts across the room and throws herself into his arms.   "I thought you were dead!  There was so much blood!  I saw you die!"

 

He holds her close and strokes her long brown hair.  "That wasn't me, love.  That wasn't me.   I'm here.  I'm real.  That thing you thought you saw wasn't real.  I am."  He says it over and over again like he's had to say it before.  

 

I step out into the room and look around nervously.  I'm feeling vulnerable in just my nightgown and bare feet.  It must show because the female mentor from Two comes over to me. 

 

"Can I help you, girl?" she asks, the words are kind but the tone is not.  

 

I shake my head and walk over to where Finnick is comforting Annie.   I note that other than District Two each of the districts remaining only have one mentor at their station.  This is likely because they don't have enough victors to have a fully manned team this late at night.   And even the mentors need to sleep sometime. 

 

Finnick nods at me in acknowledgement, but I know he's focused on Annie.   She's no longer hysterical but she's still crying and shuddering.  

 

"Does this happen a lot?" I want to know, thinking about Prim.

 

He nods his head.  "All of us come home changed.   Some of us have physical scars." He motions to the mentor from District Eleven, Chaff, who is missing a hand.  "While all of us have mental ones.  Hers are just deeper than others."

 

I nod.

 

Stroking her head and back, he looks over at me.  "What set her off?"

 

I bristle for a moment before I realize that there wasn't any accusation in his tone, just resigned acceptance.  "I'm not sure I should talk about it here," I answer.   I know it's a cop out, but I don't feel comfortable talking about Lavinia in front of the rest of the mentors.   Finnick, I think I can trust.  But definitely not the two from Two.  

 

He sees the direction of my gaze and nods accepting the reason for my reticence.   "I don't think I should leave her alone.   Do you think you can watch your sister for a bit?  I'm going to take her back to our quarters and send someone up to take my place."

 

I glance at the screen and note that Prim is asleep and Peeta is keeping watch and I nod.  Just to be sure, I flick to the main screen where it's showing Cato and Clove holed up in a cave somewhere.   It looks familiar but in the grey-green of the night vision cameras I can't put my finger on why.   Both Careers are asleep, which means that short of a Gamemaker contrived event, there isn't going to be any action tonight.  

 

Finnick sees my response and smiles at me gratefully.   He motions for the avox in the room and tells the man to get me a robe and slippers.  I'm thankful for the gesture since I'm feeling very exposed in what I'm wearing.   With me taken care of, he leads Annie to the elevators and their quarters in the Training Center.  

 

After the avox returns with the robe and slippers, I sit down in the chair Finnick vacated.  Prim is sleeping, her hand flung out toward Rue who is lying next to her.   Thresh is on the other side of the girl from Eleven while separated from the rest of the group sleeps Rani.   Or at least I think she's sleeping, she could be faking it since I can't make out her face. 

 

Peeta is seated next to the opening of the cave on a chunk of fallen tree.   It isn't terribly comfortable, I can tell, because he keeps shifting around trying to find a good place to sit.  He finally gives up and stands up.  He surveys the area slowly, carefully, to make sure there isn't any threat before he starts to patrol the perimeter of the clearing. 

 

I watch him, trying to figure out why this boy cares about me so deeply that he's willing to sacrifice himself for my sister.   I know he claims to be in love with me, but I know that can't be true.  He doesn't know me.   How can he love me, if he doesn't know me?   The answer is he can't.   So it's got to be something else.  

 

I wrack my brain trying to determine what that is.  I know he's strong from what I've seen of him in District Twelve.  I also know he's a talented artist.  The pictures he drew of me are proof of that.   He's kind.  That much is obvious from his actions in the Games.   But is that really it?  Haymitch says he's saying dangerous things, but I really haven't seen it. 

 

He doesn't say anything, not knowing where the two Careers are.   He just makes his circuit of the clearing.  Through the night vision cameras, I can see that he's talking to himself.  Probably figuring out what he's going to say in the morning.   I can tell he's not happy and he keeps looking up at the stars as if they're going to give him some kind of signal or guidance. 

 

"How's the lover boy and little sis?" an amused female voice comes from my left shoulder.  

 

I look up to see Johanna Mason standing there dressed in a simple checked button down shirt and jeans.  Like Finnick's outfit from earlier, it's not what I'm used to seeing her in.  Johanna, like Finnick, tends to wear much more aggressive and revealing clothes the few times I've seen her on television.   This outfit would fit in Twelve easily. 

 

She raises an eyebrow at me.  "Stop gawping and answer me.  Anything I need to worry about?"  She motions at the screen.  

 

Startled at her voice, I shake my head.   "Nothing's going on."

 

"Good.   Haymitch's gonna owe me for this.   Pretty boy too.  This was supposed to be my night to get a good night's sleep."

 

"So you cover for Haymitch too?" I ask.

 

She shrugs.  "It beats schmoozing the Capitol stiffs."

 

I agree with her.   Not really wanting to get into another conversation, I bid her goodbye and head for the elevator. I debate going back to the mentor crash space, but decide that I'd rather go back to Twelve's quarters.   When the doors open, I press the button for the ground floor where I'm met by a pair of Peacekeepers.

 

"Destination?" one of them asks.  His voice is stern and forbidding.  

 

"I just wanted to go back to the Training Center," I answer.  "The bed upstairs wasn't as comfortable."  I stroke my belly, bringing attention to it. 

 

The man's eyes narrow and he gives a sharp nod before turning to his partner.  "Escort her to the Training Center and make sure she doesn't get lost along the way."  The words are ominous and clearly have a double meaning.  I force myself not to shiver.   I don't want to be alone with these Peacekeepers but I can't turn around and go back upstairs without arousing even more suspicion.  

 

The partner leads me through the back hallways to the Training Center.  His walk is brisk and efficient and I can tell that he's annoyed at my slower and more ungainly pace.   I'm as annoyed as he is, but for a different reason.  I've got four more months of this.  The Peacekeeper even escorts me up to the twelfth floor.  

 

My mother and Effie are still awake as is Peeta's brother, Bing.   They look at me in surprise, taking in my state of undress and the Peacekeeper next to me.  

 

Effie steps forward first. "Can I help you?  Is there something wrong with Katniss?"  Her tone is light but I can hear the worry in it.

 

"This girl says the beds aren't comfortable in the mentor rest room."

 

Understanding dawns in Effie's eyes.  "And you were kind enough to escort her back here!   So thoughtful.   Well, you'd better get going.  Don't want to keep you from your post.  I appreciate your chivalry and will make sure to mention it to your commander the next time I see them, Peacekeeper..." she trails off looking for the name tag on his uniform, "Jett," she fills in when she finds it.   "After all, we wouldn't want anything to happen to our Katniss here, the President would be most displeased."

 

Her pointed babble is having an effect on the man standing next to me and I can't help but take pleasure in his discomfort.   I've severely underestimated Effie Trinket and I vow to never do it again.  She may act all air-headed and brainless but she's as sneaky as that girl from Five.  

 

The Peacekeeper mumbles something that sounds like an apology and all but bolts for the elevator.   When he's gone, Effie comes over to me.   "I thought you were staying with Annie and Finnick tonight in Mentor Central.  What happened?"

 

I give her a quick recap, acutely aware that I'm still only dressed in my nightclothes and slippers before asking, "Is there a way I can set some kind of alarm?  I want to be back over there before Prim and the rest make their decision."

 

My mother frowns.  "You need your sleep, Katniss."

 

"I can sleep when the Games are over," I retort.  I turn back to the escort. "So is there a way?"

 

Effie nods. "I was planning on getting up early anyway.  Haymitch is notoriously difficult to rouse and he too was planning on being present for the vote.   I can wake you after I wake him.  I assume you don't throw things or draw knives if awakened early?"

 

I shake my head.  I may grouse, but I'm not violent.   From what she's implying, Haymitch is.  I suppose her years as Twelve's escort have given her this insight, and it makes me feel a little sorry for the woman who is stuck with my district.

 

"Good!" she says briskly.  "Now off to bed.  It's going to be a big, big, big day tomorrow!"

 

oOo

 

It's still dark outside when Effie wakes me.   Good.  That means I should have enough time to shower and get food.   In deference to Effie's sensibilities, I put on a simple short sleeved dress that falls to mid-shin in varying shades of green and low heeled brown sandals.  I do my hair up into my usual braid and shrug, it's probably not what Effie had in mind, but it's the most I'm willing to do.     

 

Heading out into the main room, I see a small table set up with a smaller array of breakfast foods than normally is set out, likely because it is still early and most of the group won't be up until later.   I help myself to a crescent shaped roll and some fruit to start, eyeing the plate of crispy fried bacon hungrily.  

 

About the time I'm starting on my second plate of food, this one heaped with bacon, eggs, and freshly toasted bread, Haymitch and Effie make their appearance.   Haymitch is dressed in a vest, pants and shirt that are far less wrinkled and stained than I am used to seeing.  He's obviously showered recently since my stomach isn't roiling at the stench of unwashed male and stale alcohol.   I smile at Effie in thanks, because clearly this is her doing.

 

She acknowledges my thanks with a nod of her wigged head.   I have to admit, the pale blonde wig with pink highlights suits her porcelain complexion and light blue eyes.  Although there's no way I'd ever wear something as ridiculous as that, it fits Effie and I'm not sure I could imagine her without her wig.  

 

The three of us eat in silence and I'm okay with it.  I keep thinking about what's going to happen at the vote today and how my sister is going to react to it.   Almost all too soon, Effie is clapping her hands and ushering Haymitch and me to the elevator.  

 

When we get to Mentor Central, I'm surprised to see we're the last ones there.   Five has all three of their victors present as does Eleven.  Finnick and Cecelia are sitting with Johanna who looks both amused and exhausted.   Two doesn't have any additional people and I wonder why.

 

Finnick must have seen my expression because he pulls me to one side when I get to Twelve's cubicle.  "They're here for the sponsors.  There's a lot of speculation that there's going to be a fight after the vote and the winning tributes are likely to get a lot of sponsors.  That's why Effie came with you this morning and why Cecelia and me are here.  Your sister and your boy are likely to get a lot of money this morning."

 

"If they don't get killed," I mumble then shoot a glare at the handsome victor from Four.  "And he's not my boy!"

 

Finnick shakes his head.  "Yes, he is.  And you'd better get used to it."

 

I don't have time to consider what he means because there's another flutter of activity at the elevators.  Eight Peacekeepers in full uniform step out into the room and array themselves in groups of two behind each of the mentor stations.  

 

What's going on?

 

I get my answer a few moments later when President Snow and Seneca Crane make an appearance flanked by another pair of Peacekeepers.

 

A slow, predatory smile spreads across the President's blood red lips.   "Ah, so good to see our mentors engaged this fine morning.   I just wanted to stop by and wish all of you the best of luck.  I know your tributes won't let us down."  The words are pointed and I feel his reptilian eyes on me as he speaks them.  I know he's mostly referring to Peeta and Prim.  My tributes.   They're the ones most likely to cause problems and now I'm even more worried about the results of the voting.  

 

Thankfully, he doesn't say any more and turns to discuss something with Seneca Crane as he steps back into the elevator.  Six of the Peacekeepers follow him, leaving four in Mentor Central with us.  

 

The atmosphere is tense but the mentors get to work.   Effie and Haymitch take the lead while Cecelia and Johanna head off, Johanna to go to bed and Cecelia to get breakfast, leaving Finnick and me standing around awkwardly.  

 

Finnick steals two chairs from District Ten's cubicle and motions for me to sit down.   He spins the other around and sits on it with his legs straddling it and his arms resting on the back of the chair.  

 

"Thanks for bringing Annie to me last night," he says in a low voice while Effie and Haymitch get themselves situated.  

 

"I'm sorry," I say. I'm not sure if I'm more sorry that the event happened or that I may have set her off.  But either way, I hope the young woman is okay.

 

"It isn't your fault.  Annie wanted me to make sure you knew that it wasn't your fault.  She's been fragile ever since her Games and episodes like that come up without warning."

 

"It must be hard."

 

He shrugs.  "She's alive.  That's all that matters."

 

I understand how he feels, I feel the same way about Prim. 

 

Thinking about my sister, I turn to the main screen and much like I expected it is showing my sister's alliance.   Prim, Peeta, and Rue are all still asleep while Rani and Thresh are awake.   Thresh is standing guard a few feet away from the entrance of the cave, while Rani is hunched over a small cook fire, a few cans of something nestled in the coals.   She keeps fingering something in her pocket and it hits me - the nightlock!  She must be planning to use it on the alliance now and spare herself the trouble of going through the vote.

 

I hazard a glance at the mentors from Five and see that they are frowning at their screens.   I'm not sure why.  I'm positive that they want to see their tribute win.  They're probably upset with her for taking so long to use their sponsorship gift.  

 

I turn back to the action and I see that Thresh is heading toward the red haired girl.   "Breakfast ready?" he wants to know.

 

She smiles.  "Just about.   You're going to have to watch that appetite, Thresh, it'll get you into trouble some day."

 

He stretches.  "Someday," he agrees.  "But not today.   I'm gonna get the rest up.  No point in delaying the inevitable."

 

"And you're hungry."

 

"That too," he agrees with a small shrug.

 

Rani watches Thresh go back into the cave and her left hand slips back into her pocket again.   Beside me, I feel Finnick tense but I don't want to turn to look at him.   I'm trying to figure out some way to warn Prim about the girl from Five.  

 

Haymitch glances back over his shoulder to me.  "You'd suck as a mentor."

 

Tearing my eyes from the screen, I gape at the man.  "I didn't say anything."

 

"You didn't need to, Princess.  I could hear you thinking from here.  There ain't nothing we can do right now."

 

"But..." I start to protest but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand.

 

He looks pointedly at the remaining Peacekeepers.  "There ain't nothing.  We gotta watch this play out.   Hope that there's some decency left in that girl down there.  But we can't jump the gun."

 

"And how many tributes have you saved?" I ask pointedly.

 

"Katniss!" Effie gasps, the shock evident in her voice.  "That was uncalled for!"

 

Haymitch waves her away.  "It ain't nothing I ain't heard before."   He fixes me with a glare.  "I aim to bring two home and I ain't gonna jump the gun and cock things up.  You gotta trust the boy."

 

"But he's in as much danger as Prim is."

 

The man smiles.  "Exactly.   He's got this well in hand, even if he don't know he's got this well in hand."

 

I give up trying to understand what Haymitch means and turn back to watching the Games, pointedly ignoring the man's smirk.  

 

Rue is up and joins Rani at the cooking fire.  Good, that means less chance for the girl from Five to poison the food if she hasn't already.    Prim and Peeta emerge from the cave together with Thresh.  Prim doesn't look happy while Peeta is doing his best to seem cheerful.  There's a strain about his eyes though, and he keeps glancing at Thresh a bit nervously.  

 

Breakfast is mostly a silent affair.  Oddly enough, Thresh is the most talkative of the five tributes, talking about how Rue and Prim remind him of his little sister, except she's not as nice, and taller, and hates boys, so really nothing like them.  It's funny and it gets a smile out of my sister.  

 

Then, when the food is gone, it's down to business.   Peeta calls the meeting to order. "Okay, we've had time to think about the proposal Rani put forth yesterday.  Now it's time for a vote.  Should we end this alliance, yes or no?  Rani?"

 

"I vote yes.  It's time and we don't want the Gamemakers to force us to kill each other," the girl from Five looks both sad and determined.

 

Peeta turns to the next person.  "Rue?"

 

"I vote no.  There's still two dangerous Careers out there."

 

Nodding his head, Peeta moves on.  "Thresh?"

 

"I vote yes.   The longer we stay together, the harder it is going to be at the end."  He doesn't elaborate how it's going to be harder, he doesn't have to.

 

Peeta looks at my sister next.   "Prim?"

 

"No.  I vote no."  Her answer is quick and she looks desperately at Peeta, as if willing him to vote with her.

 

Peeta senses it and looks at her sadly.   "And I vote yes.  I'm sorry, Prim, but it's time."

 

My sister bursts into tears and runs away to the edge of the stream.   Rue follows her after giving the older tributes a look of disappointment.   The three older tributes watch the younger ones with sad eyes.  They aren't happy about the decision either, but they're trying to be realistic.   Only two of them can come home, or in Rani's case, one.   The odds aren't in their favor.  

 

It's Thresh who speaks first.  "How are we going to do this, Twelve?"

 

Peeta winces at the change from name to district number but he doesn't comment on that.  Instead he says, "Why don't we gather all of the supplies we have left out here and take a look."

 

"Sounds good to me," Rani offers.

 

It doesn't take long to gather everything together.   There are four sleeping bags, although one is slashed around the edges from when Prim and Rue used it to drag Peeta to the cave, eight water bottles of varying sizes, a few bottles of iodine which are only half full, the remnants of Prim and Peeta's first aid kits and sewing kits, a torn blanket, three backpacks, the large back frame, three soup cans, a small pot, a few coils of rope, some wire which has been twisted into snares, and four knives.  There's a little food left from the Cornucopia, mostly dried fruit and some rice, and I can guess that they've been saving some of the food for when the alliance broke. 

 

Peeta takes charge of divying up the supplies.  "I think that each group gets a sleeping bag and backpack.  It only makes sense."

 

"Who gets the big one?" Thresh wants to know. 

 

"Peeta," Rani states firmly.  "I'll take the next biggest one since I'm going to be on my own and that means you and Rue get the two smallest."

 

Thresh nods his head.  It's fair.

 

"You get the torn sleeping bag," Rani tells Peeta with a smile. 

 

He blushes.  "I know.  I ruined it, it's only fair."

 

"Who gets the extra sleeping bag?"  Thresh asks.

 

"Not me!" Rani says, taking a step back.

 

Peeta considers it for a minute.   "I'll take the blanket and what's left in both sewing kits and you can have the other bag."

 

The boy from Eleven nods his head.  "Deal."

 

The rest of the divying goes much the same and I'm sure to the disappointment of the Capitol viewers, there's no bloodshed or fighting.   In the end, everyone has a knife and rope and some way to make fire and purify water.  

 

Rani takes the least, but since she provided the least initially I think that's fair.  I just keep waiting for her to do something.  

 

When they've finished, Peeta calls for Prim and Rue.   There are tear tracks on the cheeks of both girls but they've managed to get past the worst of the storm.  

 

Rue and Thresh are the first to leave.  A decision made by Rani.   She insisted that everyone go off in a different direction in one hour intervals with her leaving last.   No one argues with her.

 

Rue and Prim embrace one last time and I can tell that both of them are trying to imprint the other on their memories.   I can't imagine what they must be going through.  Back home they'd be best friends playing in the Meadow or on the old school playground.  Here, they're enemies and only one of them can survive.  

  
Thresh shakes Peeta and Rani's hands and pulls Rue away before she can start crying again.   And then they're gone.  

 

Prim stares after the two with tears streaming down her face.   Peeta tries to give her a hug, but she's not having it.   I'm guessing she blames him for her friend leaving.  Instead, she stomps back to the stream edge and bends down to pick up a handful of small stones.  Angrily she starts hurling them into the water.  

 

Peeta watches her sadly.

 

"She'll forgive you, you know," Rani says, walking up next to him.

 

He nods.  "I hope so."

 

"She will.  She's young and you did the right thing.  One day she'll see that."  Rani looks down and smiles sadly to herself.  "Besides, I think she's more mad at me.  She hasn't spoken to me all morning."

 

The boy blinks in surprise.  "She hasn't?  Want me to talk to her?"

 

Rani shakes her head.  "No, it's probably better this way."

 

"What do you mean by that?" Peeta asks, turning to look at the red haired girl.

 

"It's nothing."  She looks up at him.  "I hope you don't mind that I made Thresh and Rue leave first."

 

Confusion crosses his features.  "I don't really mind.  But why was it so important?  I mean, you could have left first, no one would have protested."

 

"I know."  A faint blush stains her cheeks.  "I just wanted the chance to say goodbye to you."

 

He gives her a funny look.  "I don't understand."

 

She laughs, self-mockingly.  "How ironic.  The guy who's pined after one girl for so long can't recognize the signs in someone else.  It's just my luck."

 

Peeta's brow furrows as he tries to figure out her words.  I don't need to.  I know what Rani means.  She's in love with Peeta, who is in love with me.   At least now Peeta knows what it's like to be in my shoes.  I'd laugh it weren't utterly inappropriate.  

 

Understanding dawns on Peeta's face and then morphs into another expression I'm pretty sure is sympathy mixed with regret.  "I'm sorry?" he says after a moment, confirming my opinion.  "I don't know what to say.  I don't know what you want me to say."

 

"You don't have to say anything," Rani says.  "I mean how messed up is it to meet the love of your life in the middle of the Hunger Games.  They should rename these Games to the Starcrossed Lover Games with how many of us there are.  It's just I wanted the chance to say goodbye to you on my terms in my way without everyone watching."

 

But everyone is watching.   That's the whole point of the Hunger Games, to watch children kill each other for the Capitol's pleasure and to show just how much power the Capitol has over us.   The fact that Rani fell in love isn't just messed up, it's tragic.  

 

Peeta regards her for a few seconds before asking, "What do you want to do?"

 

"I don't suppose going home is an option?" she quips.

 

"Not unless you win," he says gravely.  

 

She shakes her head.  "I don't want to win.  Not if it means that you're dead.   It's not like winning would have any meaning for me.  I don't have any family or anyone I care about back home.  It's not like you or Prim or Rue or Thresh.  No one cares, no one's ever cared until you and Prim."

 

"I'm sorry," he repeats, but this time it's not just a platitude but something deeper.   He really is sorry that no one has cared about her until now.  

 

"I'm not," she says, straightening.   "It makes some of this easier."

 

"Some of what?"

 

She ignores his question and continues.  "So going back to what I want.  I want you and Prim to win this thing and go home to that girl you love so much and make her see just what kind of an amazing, wonderful, and loving man you are.   I want you to live happily ever after like one of those stories they tell kids."

 

Peeta smiles shyly.  "I'd like that too."

 

She regards him seriously and takes a deep breath.  "But that's not going to happen, Peeta.  You've got to know it won't happen.  The Capitol won't let it."

 

"What do you mean?"  Peeta's tone is carefully neutral, like he's hiding something. 

 

Rani snorts.  "I know you're not stupid, Peeta.  You know as well as I do that this whole two tributes can win if they're from the same district is a sham.  A set up.  The Capitol likes drama and the Gamemakers are going to give it to them."

 

"I don't want to believe that," he says slowly, deliberately.

 

The girl snorts again.  "Wanting to believe it and actually believing it are two different things and you know it.   It doesn't mean what I'm saying is any less true.  If the last two standing are from the same district, you know they're going to make some kind of announcement that the whole thing was a mistake and the original rules apply.   You know it!"

 

Peeta closes his eyes.  "I don't want that to be true.  I've got to hope that isn't true."  He opens them and stares down at Rani intently.  "I have to!"

 

She reaches up to touch his face but stops herself partway.  "A little hope is a dangerous thing.  It can make you do crazy things."  She takes a step back and pulls out the little container that holds the nightlock berries.  "The funny thing is that people seem to forget that despair is just as dangerous as hope."  She opens the lid and shows Peeta the contents.  

 

Peeta looks at the berries then back up to Rani in confusion.  "I don't understand."

 

The girl picks out a few berries then closes the lid and hands him the container.  "It's choice.  My choice and I'm giving it to you so that you can make the same choice when the time comes."

 

He takes the nightlock and puts it into his pocket.   "I still don't understand."

 

"Don't worry, you will."  She pauses and shifts from foot to foot.   "Do you think I can ask for a favor before you go?"

 

"Sure."

 

"Do you think you could give me my first kiss?  And don't give me any line about saving it for someone else, we both know that there isn't going to be anyone else."  Her face is determined.

 

Peeta has the decency to blush and nod.  He knows that only one of them gets to go home.  

 

She shifts on her feet nervously.  "So do you think you can give me my first kiss?  I don't want to die having never been kissed."

 

"I don't know how good it will be," he warns.  "I don't have a lot of experience."

 

"That's okay.  Neither do I."  She leans up onto her toes and purses her lips.

 

Peeta regards the waiting girl for a few brief moments, trying to screw up his courage.   Then he leans down and touches his lips to hers.  The kiss is short, barely a few seconds long, but I'm surprised at the frisson of some emotion I can't and don't want to identify that goes through me.  

 

The kiss ends and Rani and Peeta both take a step back.  She looks up at him and smiles.  "Thank you."

 

"You're welcome."

 

"Tell Prim goodbye for me," she says, then pops the berries she was holding in her hand into her mouth before he can say anything else.  

 

I stiffen in my seat.  She can't have done what I think she did!

 

She chews them carefully then swallows.  Less than a minute later, her eyes roll back into her head and she falls to the ground.

 

"Rani!" Peeta screams, kneeling down next to the girl in horror.  "What did you do?"

 

The girl from Five is too far gone to answer.   Prim turns at Peeta's shout and starts running from the edge of the stream to try to help.  I know there is nothing my sister can do.  My father always said that nightlock was so quick it would kill you as soon as it hit your stomach.   I guess he was right.

 

Peeta yells Rani's name again and this time the only answer he gets is the boom of a cannon.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written: 11/8/13  
> Revised: 11/17/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> So yeah. The alliance has broken and Rani killed herself. I'd been hinting at this possibility for a long time but when it came time to write this chapter it was very hard to do. Self Sacrifice is very hard to write especially when you've grown to like the character. But this event is something I've been building to for a while and it is so very important to what happens in the later chapters and in the sequels. But I admit it, I cried a little when she died. 
> 
> We also met Lavinia, the avox girl, that Katniss met in canon in a different capacity. I wasn't going to forget that and her story is important after all.
> 
> I am going to try to keep to a biweekly update schedule. I've just picked up a second part time job because I'm trying to make ends meet. So I don't think I can update any faster than that. I thank you for your patience. 
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> Uranium (Rani/Foxface) - District Five - Committed suicide by eating nightlock.
> 
> Up next: The fallout begins.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty Eight**

 

I barely even have time to register that Rani is dead when a commotion on the other side of the room grabs my attention.   The Peacekeepers that Snow left in Mentor Central are manhandling the mentors from District Five toward the elevators.  The youngest one, Quark looks confused and alarmed at this development, while the older two, Dyna and Kinet, seem to be more resigned.  

 

"What's going on?" I whisper to Finnick.

 

"Shhh!" Effie shushes me, turning in her chair to give me a warning with her eyes.  

 

Finnick reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze but keeps his gaze on the Peacekeepers.

 

A few seconds later, the Peacekeepers and the mentors from Five are gone.   The atmosphere in Mentor Central is tense and strained.  The mentors from Two look smug while those from Eleven are clearly worried.   I glance at Haymitch to see a carefully blank expression on his face. 

 

I'm surprised to see Effie lean over and place a hand on his arm.  "You're going to have to talk to him, you know."

 

"I know," he says tersely.  

 

"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.

 

"No, but that's not going to stop you, is it?" he asks bluntly.  

 

She shakes her head.  "Indeed, it will not."

 

"Then why did you ask?" he grumbles at her.

 

She smiles.  "Because perhaps one day you will change your mind."

 

He grunts.  "Never gonna happen."

 

"We should go now, before he sends someone to get us," Effie counsels.

 

"Yeah," Haymitch agrees with a nod.   "If we go to him, we can spin it in our favor.  We just gotta hope the boy doesn't do anything stupid in the meantime."  He turns to look at Finnick and me.  "We gotta go see Snow, try to get him to understand we had nothing to do with that girl saying the things she did or her giving Peeta those berries.  You need to keep an eye on those two and if Peeta says anything stupid send them a sponsorship gift, I don't care what.  So long as you don't use all the money, I don't care."

 

Even though the instructions are odd, I understand why he's telling us this.  I'm just not used to him being so serious. 

 

Finnick nods.  "We've got it, Haymitch.  You take care of Snow."

 

Nodding his thanks, Haymitch and Effie get up and make their way to the elevators.   Beside us, I see that Seeder has left too.  Leaving Chaff and Rye to man the mentor station. 

 

I sit back and watch the screen, trying to take in everything that's just happened.  The alliance breaking, Rani's death, the arrest of the mentors from Five, Haymitch and Effie having to do damage control.   I don't want to think about what could happen next.  

 

I don't seem to be alone in that sentiment, Prim and Peeta seem to be having a hard time coping.   Both of them are still kneeling next to Rani's body, Prim sobbing openly while Peeta is trying to hold back the tears but every few seconds a lone tear slips down his cheek.  

 

"Why?" Prim asks.  "Why'd she do it, Peeta?"

 

He shakes his head.  "I don't think she wanted to fight us.   This was her way of telling the Capitol to shove it.  That she wanted to die on her own terms."

 

"But where did she get the poison berries?"  Prim asks.

 

The question surprises me and it really shouldn't.   I realize that while the commotion was going on in Mentor Central that Peeta must have told Prim how Rani died.   I don't have a lot of time to think about that because Peeta answers, "She probably found them during one of the gathering trips and saved them.  I wouldn't be surprised if the Gamemakers hadn't planted poisonous berries all over the Arena to lure in unwary tributes,"  Peeta lies. I can tell he's lying, something about the explanation is too pat and if I were in his shoes I'd likely lie too.  If only to spare Prim the truth.    

 

Prim nods.  The lie sounds plausible.  Every year, some tribute or other dies from either unpurified water or a misidentified plant.   It's just the first time that one has died from poisoning themselves deliberately.  I try to think of other tributes who've committed suicide and fail.  There probably are some, but in all of the Hunger Games I've seen, not one tribute has killed themselves deliberately.  

 

Peeta scrubs at his eyes.  "We should get going, Prim.  Everyone's heard the cannon and someone may come to investigate."  He leaves unsaid that the most likely people to investigate are Rue and Thresh and they'll likely think that Peeta and Prim killed Rani.

 

"No, not yet," Prim says, her lower lip jutting out stubbornly.  "Not until we do something to remember Rani."

 

Peeta doesn't even try to argue.  "What did you have in mind?"

 

My sister thinks about it for a moment.  "A funeral, maybe.  Not a full blown one, of course, but a simple one with flowers and singing."

 

He thinks about it for a few moments then nods.  "That sounds okay.  Nothing too elaborate or too long.  But some flowers and singing, so long as you're the one singing. We both know I can't carry a tune."

 

Prim smiles at Peeta's attempt to lighten the mood.   "I'm not as good as Katniss," she warns.

 

A small flash of something I can't identify flits across his face at Prim's comment.  "You're better than me.  Come on, let's get to it."

 

They each pick an armful of flowers, being careful not to stray too far from Rani's corpse to keep the hovercraft from collecting it before they've had their funeral.   Then they cover the girl with the flowers while Prim sings the old lullaby that my father sung to me and I, in turn, sang to her.  

 

Feeling the tears prick behind my eyelids, I turn away to look at Finnick.   He's frowning and I don't know why.   I think what they're doing for Rani is good and the decent thing to do.  They're making her sacrifice matter and remembering that she's not just a tribute, but a girl who was loved and cared for.  Then it hits me, that's the problem.   They're making Rani human and the Capitol, or more specifically Snow, might not want that.  

 

"Should we send them a gift?" I whisper to Finnick.

 

He shakes his head.  "It depends.   We might need to soon and I'm trying to figure out what to send.  Got any ideas?"

 

I look at the prices and blanch.  Out of curiosity, I check the price of the spool of string I sent to my sister and goggle when I read the number, two thousand and forty one coin.   I read it again and the numbers don't change.   Then I remember that Snow gave my sister and Peeta each thirty thousand coin.  "Send string," I say quietly.

 

"What?" he asks, clearly confused by my suggestion. 

 

I meet Finnick's eyes.  "Send string.   The same kind I sent Prim in the beginning.  I'm sure they're running out and compared to some of the other prices of things in here it's not too expensive.   Prim won't think anything of it, but Peeta should get the message."

 

I watch him weighing my words in his mind and a slow smile starts to spread across his lips.   "I think that might work.  Snow shouldn't think anything of it and if asked we can just say that since they've been using the string so much we sent them more to make nets..." he trails off, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know that Mags won her Games using nets and a spear.  I used them too.   Maybe we should look into sending Peeta and Prim a spear of some kind.   They're not that hard to use and they'd work really well with those nets your sister makes."

 

"I'm not sure the string I sent is strong enough to entangle a human," I warn.

 

Finnick shrugs.  "So we send another spool later of stronger stuff.  It's still not as expensive as a premade net.  I'll talk to Haymitch about it." 

 

I nod, the string is one thing, a weapon is a lot more expensive.

 

He checks to see if Peeta and Prim have started moving and notes that they haven't.  He punches a few buttons on the console in front of him and starts talking.   "I want to place an order for Item number," he reads off a series of numbers and letters that correspond to the string I sent Prim earlier in the Games.  He pauses to wait for the person on the other end of the line to reply.  "Yes, I know the hovercraft is already out for a pick up.  But you know sponsorship gifts take precedence over corpse retrieval."   The Gamemaker he's talking to seems to concede that point because a few moments later Finnick hangs up with a triumphant smirk on his face.   "Got it.  That should buy them a few minutes."

                                                                                       

"A few minutes to do what?"  I want to know.

 

"For your sister and Peeta to s ay goodbye and figure out where they're going to go from here."

 

It's a good question.  Where should Peeta and Prim go?   They can't really go to any of the places they went with Rue, otherwise the pool by the cliffs would be perfect.  Not to mention the Careers are still out there.

 

I motion for one of the waiting Avoxes to come over and ask him to bring some cheese buns, vegetable stew, and venison sausage.  I also ask for a few sandwiches and fruit for later.   While breakfast was only a few hours ago, I can tell that today is going to be a hollow day where nothing I eat is going to keep me full.  I stifle a snort, it's probably the first time I'll eat enough to please everyone who's watching over me.     

 

As I finish my order, I can see the cameras zoom in on the parachute Finnick ordered.   The tinkling sound distracts Peeta and Prim from their mourning and they look up in surprise.  

 

"A sponsorship gift?"  Prim asks. 

 

The parachute lands next to her.

 

"You'd better pick that up," Peeta advises.  

 

Prim obeys.  When she opens the package, she's even more confused.  "String?  Why'd someone send us string?  And the same kind that Katniss sent me at the beginning.  I still have some left."

 

"But not that much," Peeta says absently.  "I'm sure they're wanting to replenish you so you can make more nets and snares."

 

"It would be useful," Prim says with a nod.  "It's almost like Katniss herself is making sure we get these gifts."

 

Peeta's eyes widen in horror and he gets to his feet.   He's realized the meaning of the gift Finnick sent.  He carefully schools his features and looks down at my sister.  "We should get going Prim.  You know they don't like us hanging around the dead tributes for very long."

 

She frowns but stands up.   "But why?"

 

Peeta makes a face.   "I'm guessing you don't remember much of the Sixty-Ninth Games?"

 

She shakes her head.  "Mom and Dad wouldn't let me watch most of it.  Said I was too young."

 

He nods in understanding.  "That's probably for the best.   One of the tributes in those Games did some bad things to the dead tributes and the Capitol doesn't want a repeat of that."

 

"But we're not doing anything wrong!" Prim protests.

 

"The Capitol doesn't know that.  Besides, we should find a place to go before it gets dark."

 

Prim makes a face.  "What should we do about Rani's things?" she wants to know.

 

Peeta looks at the backpack full of supplies that the girl from Five had bargained for just a few hours ago.   "I think we should take them with us.  She probably would want that."

 

Prim nods and goes over to pick up the pack.   She slips it over her shoulders and looks at Peeta expectantly.   For his part, he shrugs the larger back frame onto his back and holds out one hand.

 

Prim takes it and the two set off into the woods and away from the camp that they've lived in for most of the Games. 

 

**oOo**

 

I beg off staying in Mentor Central for the rest of the afternoon.   As much as I want to find out what happened with Haymitch and Effie, a bigger part of me counsels that I should just stay out of it.   The less I know, the safer I'll be.   I don't know if that's wisdom or delusion, but either way it makes me feel better.

 

I go back to the training center and the twelfth floor.  There, I try to fill my hollow stomach.   My mother smiles when she sees the fifth sandwich I've eaten.

 

"I was like that with you," she reminisces, sitting down next to me on the couch.  "Couldn't stand eating some days, then I'd eat everything in the house the next.  It drove your father nuts.   He'd never know from one day to the next what I'd be like."

 

"How could you stand it?" I ask.

 

"How could I stand what?" she counters.

 

I shift on the couch, trying and failing to find a position that doesn't feel odd.   "Being pregnant.  Knowing that your kids were going to possibly be reaped.  Being Seam-poor.  Everything."

 

My mother stands up and comes over to sit on the arm of the couch next to me.  She softly starts to stroke my hair like she did when I was a child and I lean my head against her thigh.  "I never hated being Seam-poor because I was happy.  I had your father, I had you girls.  Money and things were never worth the three of you.   I admit that being pregnant wasn't fun, but I don't regret it or hate it.  Not for a minute.  I got you and Prim out of it, the best two girls a mother could ask for.  As for the rest, I tried not to think about it.  I think all of us parents try not to dwell on it too much.   We'd go mad if we did."

 

I nod my head.  "What am I going to do?" I ask in a small voice. 

 

My mother is silent for a long time, just running her fingers through my hair.  Finally she says, "What you have to do to survive."

 

It's as good an answer as any.

 

**oOo**

 

I consciously decide that I'm only going to watch Mandatory Viewing tonight.  At the moment,  the cameras are flicking from Rue and Thresh, to Cato and Clove, to Peeta and Prim and then back again without settling on any of them.  It's as good of a time as any to do something else.   I need a rest from the Games and I'm not sure that right now I'm able to deal with any more shocks.  I feel like I'm being disloyal to Prim and by extension Peeta, but I need a break.  

 

Madge was right the day she came and dragged Gale and me out to the woods, just sitting around and watching the Games isn't good for me.   It'd be easier, in a way, if I were in them myself at least then, I'd know what to do with myself.

 

My body seems to approve of the plan to take a break, because almost as soon as I make it, I feel a wave of exhaustion sweep over me and I barely make it into my bedroom and under the covers before passing out. 

 

My mother wakes me up several hours later for dinner and I realize just how much stress I've been under.  I've been running on almost pure adrenaline since the Reaping and  it's been even worse since we've arrived in the Capitol.  The situation's finally caught up to me.  I've got to deal with this better.   If not for me, then for the baby I'm carrying.   Now, if I could only convince the rest of the world that I need less stress, I'd be set.  

 

The first thing that I do is pointedly ignore Mrs. Mellark.   Just having her around sniping at everything my mother or I say or do isn't helping.   It'd be too much for me to ask to have her stay someplace else, like on another floor.  So I'm going to try to avoid her.   Thankfully, she makes it easy by segregating herself from the rest of the group outside of mealtimes.   

 

I'm still hungry after everyone else has eaten their fill, but I just grab the basket of rolls from the side bar and go to the viewing room with them.  I want to see what's happened while I slept.  

 

The recaps are pretty short and to the point.   Rue and Thresh start heading away from the camp and the Cornucopia clearing into a part of the Arena I haven't seen before except for on the holographic map in Mentor Central.   It's heavily wooded and leads to the area above the swamp that's on the upper end of the wheat field canyon.  I don't know what dangers are in that area but I don't know if it matters.  So long as Peeta and Prim don't go there, Thresh and Rue can have that area all they want.   The two make good time, only pausing when Rani's cannon sounds.  

 

Rue starts to take off back to the stream, but Thresh stops her.  "The alliance is broken, little girl."

 

"But Prim or Peeta or Rani could be dead!  And the others in trouble!" she protests.

 

Thresh shakes his head.  "So long as it ain't us.   The fewer tributes we got to fight the better for us.  Besides..."  he trails off.

 

Rue doesn't let it go. "Besides what?" she demands.

 

"It's possible one of them killed the other," he reveals with a twinge of sadness in his voice. 

 

"Peeta wouldn't do that!  Prim wouldn't do that!"

 

He shakes his head.  "You can't know that, little girl.  The Games, they change people and not for the better."

 

"Have you changed?" she wants to know.

 

Thresh nods once and looks away.  "More than you ever want to know," he says quietly.

 

"I've changed too," the young girl from Eleven admits.

 

"I know.  And you don't know how sorry that makes me," he tells her.

 

They don't say any more but continue walking, eventually setting up camp for the night under a fallen tree.   I'm surprised they don't climb one of the large trees, but I guess that Thresh isn't that good of a climber because of his size.   I'm also surprised that the Gamemakers didn't censor the conversation about the Games changing people.  Maybe it's because they want to send home broken victors and they want the districts to know that their victors are damaged goods.   But I'm still surprised.

 

The recap shifts to Cato and Clove next.   The two are camped out in Thresh's old cave and Cato seems to be doing a lot better than he was the last time I saw them.   He's moving around some but not as spryly as he was before he was hurt.   I see the remnants of a sponsorship gift by the fire.  Food from the looks of it.  

 

"We should probably try to hunt down the remaining tributes soon," Clove says carefully, her eyes on Cato's face to gauge his reaction.

 

Cato grunts.  "There's nothing wrong with my arms.  So if you can lead them back to me, I can kill them."

 

"So you're suggesting I just act as the bait?" her tone is dangerous.

 

The boy deflates when he hears it.  "Not one of my best ideas, was it?"

 

"No, it wasn't," she says flatly.

 

He pounds his fist against the side of the cave.  "I'm just sick of being useless!  This isn't what I trained for!  I trained to hunt down the meat for the glory of the Capitol, not sit around in a cave waiting for the meat to come to me.  It's embarrassing."

 

Clove comes over and sits down and motions for him to sit down with her.  When he does, she guides his head into her lap before leaning down to kiss him.   "I know it is.  This isn't the Games either of us wanted.   But we don't always get what we want, so we have to make do with what we have and so long as I have you I'll be happy.  So we wait another day, big deal.  The Capitol will let us know when it is time for us to make our move."

 

He nods.  "When do you think that will be?"

 

She considers it.  "Soon.  Probably tomorrow or the next day.   You heard the cannon earlier, one of the meat is dead, probably from starvation or something weak like that.  That means that there are only four more obstacles in our way and we can go home."

 

Smiling up at her, he says, "Home, I'd like that.  Do you think they'll let us get our pick of houses in the Village?  Us being the first dual victors and all?"

 

Clove shrugs her shoulders.  "Probably.  We probably can't kick out the popular victors like Lyme, Enobaria, or Alexandros.  But the failures like Brutus, Germanus or Gray are likely fair game."

 

The smile becomes more feral.  "Good, then I want Gray's house.   It's got the best garden."

 

"What is it with you and gardens?" she asks, her tone exasperated.  

"I don't know," he says with a shrug.  "I just like them.   They seem so peaceful and I think I would like tending it.  It would give me something to do since I won't be training anymore."

 

She rolls her eyes.  "And what about me?"

 

"You'll be too busy for a garden," he says certainly. 

 

Her eyes narrow.  "And why's that?"

 

"Because you'll be too busy with our kids.  I figure there's no need to wait.  We can get started right away."

 

"Don't I get any say in this?" her tone is a little put out.  

 

He looks up at her earnestly.  "You do.  But think about it, a boy with your accuracy and my strength.  Why he'd be unstoppable.  Then a girl with both of our looks.  She'd put the tributes from One to shame.   Think about it.  We could breed up the next generation of victors.  We'd be more famous than the Cuthberts."

 

I have no idea who they're talking about but I'm guessing that the Cuthberts are a big deal in Two.   Probably for something Games related.   The announcers fill in some of the gaps, Duke Cuthbert was the first winner from Two and his son won the Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games.  The Games that all of the winners were voted in by their districts.   They don't replay those Games very often, it wasn't very exciting and the winner, Prince Cuthbert, wasn't very interesting.  He was the typical Career: large, brutish, and deadly.  

 

The rest of Cato and Clove's recap features the two of them making out and planning for the future more.  I almost feel sorry for them, they're so convinced that the Capitol is going to let them both walk out of the Games alive.  After Rani's speech before she killed herself, I don't believe the Capitol is going to let more than one tribute become a victor.   I think both Peeta and Thresh have figured that out, but not Rue and Prim and also not the two kids from Two.  

 

The recap finishes up with Peeta and Prim.   I'm unsurprised to see that they've edited Peeta and Rani's conversation to make it look like Rani's just a girl with a crush.   All of her inflammatory words have been edited out, leaving her sounding even more like a lovesick girl with no hope.   Her suicide is almost anti-climatic and the way they've edited it reminds me of one of those stupid Capitol soap operas that they show when the Games aren't on.   I also realize that the words I'm hearing aren't quite matching up to her lips.  That they've cobbled together the audio as well as editing the video.  

 

They don't show Peeta and Prim covering her body with flowers or them singing to her.   They do show Prim getting the sponsorship gift with the string, but they've cut it in such a way that Rani's body is always just out of the shot.   It makes me wonder just how much I've missed that the Capitol's censored.  If I hadn't been in Mentor Central when everything happened, would I have even seen Rani's death back home in District Twelve?  Or would the Capitol have censored that too?

 

I don't know.  

 

I don't have a lot of time to dwell on that because now I get to see where Prim and Peeta have ended up.   They walk back to the spring by the cliffs but don't stay there long.  Only long enough to gather a few things to eat and move on. 

 

They seem to have a clear destination in mind, unlike Rue and Thresh, who are wandering aimlessly toward the edge of the Arena.   Peeta leads Prim toward the clearing where they started the Games and the Cornucopia.  

 

As they walk, Peeta explains why they're going there.  "Assuming the two from Two aren't still there, it's the safest place we can be.   No one will think to look for us there.  The Cornucopia's large enough to fit the two of us and we won't even need to light a fire because the wind will be off of us and we can sleep together for warmth."

 

"But what about animals.  Don't we need a fire to scare them away?"

 

Peeta shakes his head.  "We shouldn't and you'll just make a net large enough to cover the mouth of the Corncopia, that way anything trying to get in will get tangled and we can take it out easily."

 

His comment makes me think of Finnick's plan to have Haymitch send the two a spear.  I wonder if the handsome victor from Four had the chance to talk to Haymitch about that yet.   If someone did try to sneak up on the two of them in the dark, chances are they wouldn't notice the net, especially if they used mud to darken the white string to brown.   It's not a bad plan.   And Peeta's right, Rue and Thresh won't go back there because of the chance they'll run into the Careers and Cato and Clove won't go there because Cato's leg isn't good enough to climb the cliff and they won't swim around again because of the alligator pike muttation in the water.

 

Prim gives in and follows Peeta along, picking edible plants as she walks.  

  
They get to the clearing in the mid-afternoon and take in the destruction of the Career's camp.   They walk among the destroyed crates and boxes picking up random pieces of detritus.   Most of it is ruined, like the Careers found, but there's still some things that aren't totally obliterated:  a pot, a few fishhooks, a knife blade.   Prim also gathers up several charred pieces of cloth.

 

Peeta gives her a look.  "Why are you picking those up?" he asks.

 

She bends down and picks up another piece. "Because they burn really quickly.  They're the best kind of tinder there is.  It only takes a spark to light it.  My daddy taught me when I was really little.  I used to get so cold in the winter and it'd take a long time to get a coal fire started.  So he showed me how to make charcloth with old rags."  She looks away sadly.  "It's one of my best memories of him."

 

I feel the tears well up behind my eyes.   I was always my father's favorite, just like Prim is my mother's.   But because he died when she was so little, I sort of forgot that she could possibly miss him as much as I do.  When Prim gets home, if she gets home, I resolve to tell her more about our father so that she'll have more than a memory of him lighting a fire for her.

 

The two also pick up any stick of wood from crates that they can find.   It's good dry wood and even if they don't have a fire at night, they still need something to cook with.   They gather all of their supplies into the Cornucopia and then Prim sits down so she can lean against the metal side to weave a large net to cover the opening.   Peeta takes their water bottles down to the lake to fill them and sets a few fishing lines as well.

 

I'm a little surprised that they're lingering on the camp set up scene for the recap.  It doesn't seem to be the kind of thing they'd focus on.   I feel a little worm of dread start to wind its way up my spine.  

 

Out in the lake, one of the lines Peeta set starts to twitch.   The boy goes over to it excitedly and starts to roll the line in using a branch to wind the string around so that he doesn't cut his hands.   The fish on the other end is battling fiercely and almost without thinking about it, Peeta takes a step into the water. 

 

And then another. 

 

The water only comes up to mid shin, but apparently that's enough.  The fish on the other end of the line stops fighting against the hook in its mouth and instead charges Peeta and for the first time I get a good look at what kind of fish is on the other end of the line.  

 

Muttation.

 

The same kind of muttation that attacked Cato and Clove a couple of days ago.   This one is smaller and a slightly different color than the mutt that attacked the two Careers.   But it's still a mutt.

 

When the line goes slack because of the mutt's charge, Peeta loses his balance and falls backward into the shallow water.  The branch he's holding falls out of his hand.   He gropes around for it with both hands just in time for the muttation to clamp its needle like teeth onto his left hand.  

 

Peeta roars in pain, yanking his hand and the mutt still attached out of the water.  When he sees what's attached to his hand he gives it a violent shake, trying to dislodge it.  

 

It doesn't work.

 

Struggling to his feet, he stumbles up onto the bank, mutt still attached to his left hand.   He yells for Prim to come help him.  He doesn't wait to see if she responds before placing a foot on the thrashing mutt and trying to pry the clamped jaws up with his right hand.  

 

He's able to get them loosened a little bit, enough to pull his hand out a little, but the mutt flops and bites down again.  This time in a different place.

 

I can hear the crunch of bone that accompanies the spurt of blood as the mutt reattaches itself.  

 

  
Prim gets there and pulls out a knife.   She stabs the mutt behind its head, trying to sever the backbone.   She misses on the first stab, the knife skittering off of the armored head.   She adjusts her aim and tries again.  This time she's more successful.  

 

The muttation gives a few more half-hearted flops before it falls silent.   My sister stabs it again for good measure before going to help Peeta pry the dead mutt's mouth open.  

 

Peeta extracts his hand and I struggle to keep my dinner in my stomach.   The hand is mangled and in several places I see the tell-tale ivory color of bone.   It's bad and I don't know if there's anything that my sister can do to help.

 

Prim surveys the damage and then frowns up at Peeta.  "Do you go out of your way to get hurt?" she asks, the words are peevish but the tone isn't.   She's trying to lighten the mood so she can work.  I've seen my mother do that with several of her patients.  Particularly the ones who are more likely to panic or start crying.  

 

Just like with my mother's patients, Prim's teasing makes Peeta smile.  "I didn't mean to.   It just attacked me out of nowhere."

 

"Out of nowhere huh?  I guess we'd better fix you up, although I am getting mighty sick of getting you better, then having something else happen to you.  You've just got to promise not to get hurt again."

 

"I'll try," Peeta promises.

 

As she's been talking, my sister's been washing the wound and assessing the damage.  There isn't a lot she can do, but she tries with what medicinal plants she can find and using the remnants of her sewing kit and blanket she fashions a decent bandage.

 

When she's done, she sits back on her heels.  "I don't know if it's going to be good enough to save your hand.  There's a lot of damage," she tells him frankly.

 

"I know.   I can't feel my ring finger which I can't decide if that's a good or bad thing.  It's good because all of my other fingers feel bruised or sliced or both.  It's a bad thing because I have a hunch that I'm not supposed to be feeling nothing."

 

Prim frowns.  "That's not good," she says slowly.  "Do you feel anything?  Pins and needles?  Anything?"

 

He shakes his head.  "What does that mean?"

 

My sister looks down at her hands and fidgets nervously.  "It means the nerves have been damaged and that you might lose the finger."   From the way she's sitting, I know that's not the whole story.

 

My mother fills in the rest.   "Depending on where the damage is, he could lose the whole hand," she murmurs softly.

 

"No one asked you!" Mrs. Mellark snaps.  "And if he loses his hand it's that damn daughter of yours' fault!"

 

"Leave Prim out of this!" I snarl back.  "She's doing her best to keep Peeta alive!"

 

She turns her pale blue eyes to me and sneers, "It wasn't the little girl I was talking about."

 

Her hatred goes through me like a knife and I struggle to think of something to say to defend myself.

 

I don't need to because Bing Mellark comes to my rescue.  "You can't blame Katniss, Mother.   Peeta's made his own decisions, she's got nothing to do with this."

 

"She's got everything to do with this!" she argues.

 

"Now, now, Muffy.  That's enough," Mr. Mellark steps in.  "You're tired.  We're all tired.   Why don't we go to bed?  I'm sure things will look better in the morning."

 

Mrs. Mellark opens her mouth to speak, but Mr. Mellark reaches down and squeezes her arm warningly.   She closes her mouth and gets up from the couch, sending me a glare in the process.  Mr. Mellark escorts her to their shared room and a collective sigh of relief goes through the rest of us.  

 

"I don't know why she's acting that way," Bing tells me.   "She's normally not like this."

 

But she is, she's always like this with me and it's only been recently that I've known why.   I shrug my shoulders and turn back to the Games.  Mandatory Viewing is finishing up with their tribute montage to Rani.   Again I notice the judicious use of editing to tell the story that the Capitol wants to tell and not the truth.   The images and scenes they're choosing are portraying Rani as a lovesick girl who was betrayed in the end by the boy she loved.  They've even reversed the footage of Rani handing Peeta the berries so that it looks like Peeta's offering them to her.   I wonder how many people they think will fall for that.   Most people will remember that Rani is the one who got the nightlock as a sponsorship gift, the announcers even brought in experts on the subject.   Now they're trying to paint a different picture because self-sacrifice isn't something they want to show as happening in the Games and betrayal is a much better story for the Capitol.  

 

It makes me sick. 

 

Mandatory Viewing finishes and they slip back into the action of the Games and what's going on in Peeta and Prim's camp.   The two are talking and Prim is boiling something in the dented pot they found.  

 

"You'd better finish up, Prim," Peeta says from his place against the side of the Cornucopia.   "It's going to be dark soon and we need to get that fire out."

 

"I'm almost done," she says with a nod.   "I just wish we could eat that mutt fish you caught.  I'm hungry."

 

"We can't take the chance," he explained in a resigned tone of voice.  "It could be poisonous and your sister'd kill me if I let anything happen to you."

 

"I know.  It'd just be nice to have something more solid than greens for dinner."

 

Peeta nods.  "So what are you making?"

 

"Willow bark tea.  I want to have enough to get through the night.   It will help keep the swelling down and make the pain a little easier to bear."

 

Glancing at his bandaged hand, Peeta nods ruefully.  "I'll take all the pain relief I can get.  It's going to be hard to sleep tonight."

 

Prim nods, but doesn't say anything.   She pulls the pot off of the fire and sets it to one side to cool.   Then she carefully starts to cover the small fire with dirt.  She doesn't use water because the steam would give away their position.  When she's sure she's got it smothered, she goes over to sit down next to Peeta.  

 

"Tomorrow, I'll rig up a few snares to try to catch a rabbit or a groosling.   I think we shouldn't bother with fishing in the lake.  Not with mutts like that in the water, they'd eat all of the other fish."

 

Peeta frowns.   "Do you think that we'll be able to catch enough?"

 

"I don't know.  We can always go back to the pool or the stream if we need to.  The walk isn't too far."

 

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he says slowly.  "Rue and Thresh could be there and we don't know where the Careers are."

 

"I know.  But it's better than starving," she points out. 

 

"True."

 

She unties one of her pigtails to rebraid it.  "Besides, we'll be harder to catch if we aren't in one place all the time."

 

Peeta pokes her on the shoulder.   "Hey!  When'd you get so smart?"

 

"I don't know.  When did you?" she shoots back with a grin.

 

They watch the sun set in silence, waiting for the announcement  that comes every night at first dark.   Peeta pulls out two slices of dried pear and hands one to Prim.   She takes it gratefully and eats the fruit slowly to make it last.  

 

The trumpets blare overhead as the nightly announcements begin.   Rani's face flashes up into the sky and a spasm of pain crosses Peeta's face that has nothing to do with his hand.   Prim squeezes his good hand while struggling not to cry.

 

"I'm going to miss her," she whispers.

 

"Me too," Peeta whispers back.

 

The cameras flash to Cato and Clove next.   They too are watching the sky but their expressions are ones of glee at the girl from Five's death.   They're a little too close to Prim and Peeta for my liking, but so far they haven't noticed that the Cornucopia's clearing is occupied again.

 

Then they switch over to show Rue and Thresh.   They're both wearing identical expressions of shock and betrayal. 

 

"I guess that answers our question, little girl," Thresh says after Rani's face fades from the sky.

 

"You don't think Peeta and Prim killed her?"   Rue asks in a small voice.  

 

He looks down at the girl next to him.  "I don't see how it could have happened any other way."

 

"What about a mutt?"  Rue protests.

 

"The timing's wrong.   All three of them should have been at the camp still."

 

"Maybe they ran into the Careers or a mutt attacked while they were still together."  Rue's clearly grasping at straws.

 

But Thresh isn't about to give her false hope.  "We'd have heard the commotion if it'd happened that way.   There'd have been yelling and screaming and all sorts of noise.  We didn't hear any of that so that only leaves one option.   They killed her when she wasn't paying attention."

 

"Prim would never do that!"

 

"I'm not saying she would," Thresh says softly.  "But Peeta might.  Especially if she threatened the little girl.   We don't know what happened, but my instincts tell me that Peeta killed her."

 

Rue starts crying and Thresh tries to comfort her awkwardly.   "I wish the Games didn't exist," she says in between sobs.

 

Thresh holds her even tighter and closes his eyes.  "Me too, little girl.  Me too." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  
> Written: 11/18/13  
> Revised: 12/1/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> The fallout begins. It is definitely nowhere near over. 
> 
> Peeta is hurt. Again. It's almost like a brick joke with him. He's always getting hurt. I don't know if it's the Worf Effect in play. But hey! Who am I to deviate from canon too much... oh wait... 
> 
> I didn't do as well as I wanted with NaNoWriMo this year. I only managed to write a little over 38,000 words this month. Real life has been busy complete with nasty storms knocking over trees and killing power. But I'm so close to the end, I can taste it. My poor sounding board and beta are getting sick of me babbling about stuff to them especially considering that I've been talking with them for almost two years now. 
> 
> I am going to be sticking with a biweekly update schedule for now. It seems to be working and I have time to get the chapters written. So every other Sunday for the foreseeable future, I'll put out a chapter. For those of you who are looking for more in the Spectator Universe, I'm also putting out another fic called "Forgotten" that is Gale's story starting from when Katniss goes to the Capitol. There will be some important stuff that happens there that will be relevant later. It too is going to be updated biweekly on Tuesdays. 
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> None.
> 
> Up next: Stuff! No, really. There'll be stuff! And things! You think I'm joking. You'll see.
> 
> Until Next time!


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty Nine**

 

I plan on going to bed early, but I'm not tired.  Probably because I took such a long nap earlier in the day.   But I don't want to watch the Games.  All of the tributes left in the Games are either sleeping or on watch and I don't feel like listening to the Capitol commentators attempt to spin Rani's suicide into the unrequited love of a teenage girl, rather than the rebellion it actually was, over and over again.  

  
There aren't any books or any other forms of entertainment in the quarters other than the Games, so I find myself wandering around the apartments in the hopes that the activity will make me tired enough to sleep.

 

It doesn't work.

 

Sighing in frustration, I sit down in the dining room, trying to decide if I'm hungry enough for more food or if that's just going to add to my insomnia.  

 

From behind me, I hear the doors to the apartment open.   I turn around to see Haymitch and Effie enter.  They're arguing, which doesn't surprise me.   But the subject does.

 

"I don't know why you didn't send the spear before the announcements.  Now the price has gone up another ten percent. That's just foolish, Haymitch.  You know Finnick's idea is a good one."

 

"I do," he agrees.  "I just want to see if I can think of something better."

 

"Like what?" I can't resist butting in.

 

"Katniss!  You're still up!  How wonderful!"  Effie cries in that Capitol way that used to bother me so much.  "Shouldn't you be asleep, though?   You need lots of sleep for the baby."

 

"I took a four hour nap earlier." I tell her.  "What other ideas are you thinking about?"  I turn back to Haymitch to find that he's grabbed a decanter of something blue and is pouring it into a glass half filled with some kind of clear liquid that I don't think is water.

 

He looks up from his task.  "I don't rightly know yet, sweetheart.  But I'll tell you as soon as I do."

 

"How much money do we still have?" I want to know.

 

Effie and Haymitch share a look.  "I'm not sure we're allowed to tell you, Katniss," the escort tries.

 

I shake my head.   "Oh no, you can't pull this on me now.   Not after my little meeting with Snow and all of the other sponsors at the reception.   I'm either a part of this team or I'm not.  You can't have it both ways.  So how much do we still have?"

 

"A little over a hundred ten thousand coin give or take," Haymitch answers succinctly.

 

I reel back in my seat.   I can't even fathom how much money that is.   The three hundred and fifty I raised for Prim is equivalent to three and a half month's pay in the Seam.  

 

"It isn't as much as you think," Effie warns.  "I'm sure from your gift to Primrose and Peeta earlier today that you have some idea about the markup."

 

"So how much would it be to send them a spear?"  I ask.

 

"It ain't as simple as all that," Haymitch says, sitting down with his drink.  "The money's divided up into three accounts: Female Tribute, Male Tribute, and District.   The money in each account can only go to that tribute while the district account can be used for either.  So getting a spear, which only one person can use, would eat up all of Peeta's money and most of the district money besides."

 

"But wouldn't that be worth it?"  I ask.  "Better to spend the money now than have them die."

 

Effie claps her hands.  "Thank you!  That's what I said.  There's no point in being stingy now.  Not when we're down to the final three."

 

I look around and lower my voice.  "Do you really think that's going to happen?"

 

Haymitch gives me a glare.  "Until they tell me otherwise, sweetheart, I'm going to act like I think both Peeta and Prim are going to make it home together."

 

There's something about the way he says it that makes me pause.  "What happened today?"

 

"You saw what happened, sweetheart."  He takes a sip from his drink.

 

It's a clear evasion and I'm not going to let it slide.  "Not that!  But after you and Effie left, what happened.  Where did you go?  Why did you need to go see Snow?"

 

Effie lays a hand on my arm.  "I don't think that's a discussion we should be having right now and right here."  She lays slightly more emphasis on the word 'here' than she should and the implication dawns on me.  The apartment is bugged.

 

"Fine," I concede, fixing the both of them with a glare.  "But you're going to tell me soon."

 

"Sure.  Fine.  Whatever," Haymitch sighs, before finishing his drink in one gulp.  "Effie, would you be a doll and show Katniss here the roof?   All of this lovely discussion is putting a serious hurt on my get drunk time."

 

Effie throws Haymitch an exasperated eye roll, but nods her head before turning back to me.  "I don't think you've seen the roof here at the training center.  The view is really quite lovely and they've planted whole beds of flowers up there.   I think you'd find it most restful."

 

I shrug my shoulders.  "Sure.  Might as well, right?  It's not like there's anything else to do."

 

"You could get drunk with me, sweetheart," Haymitch offers.

 

"Certainly not!" Effie sputters.  "You know alcohol isn't good for the baby!"  

 

"My ma drank when she was pregnant with me and my brother.  And I turned out fine," Haymitch counters.

 

The escort sniffs.  "That remains to be seen.   Come, Katniss, I think we'd better leave Mr. Abernathy alone before his bad habits become contagious."

 

"I wasn't going to take him up on his offer anyway," I feel compelled to say.  

 

"Good!  That's because you have some sense, unlike some other people I could name."  She shoots the man a look that part exasperated and part something else I can't identify.

 

Haymitch snorts.  "Would you two just get and leave a man to get drunk in peace?"

 

We get.

 

 

**oOo**

 

The roof of the training center is everything Effie promised and more.  It's a good place to talk without being overheard, as she quickly explains to me.  

 

"It won't stop you from being seen, of course, and you know about the lip readers," she adds, her own lips barely moving.  

 

I nod.  I do know about them.  They're employed in almost every Games I've seen.  Sometimes they'll subtitle the conversations.  Sometimes they won't.   But unless the tribute goes out of their way to cover their mouth, the Gamemakers make sure that the audience watching knows what the tributes are talking about.   So long as it isn't a forbidden topic, of course.  

 

 "They aren't only used in the Games," she says simply, allowing me to draw my own conclusions.

 

So the Capitol is monitoring us, I'm not surprised.   But it is still unsettling.   "So, what happened today?"  I walk over to the railing surrounding the roof and lean on it.  The view below is striking, full of light and color.  I can make out the tiny forms of people walking around.   It's an odd sensation looking down on people from up high.  I'm not sure I like it.  

 

"What do you think happened?" Effie counters, joining me at the rail.

 

I don't know what to say.  For all that I like her and for all of her help Effie's still from the Capitol.  I can't trust her, not the same way I can trust Finnick or even Haymitch.   I try to think of how I can phrase things so that they can't be construed as treason, even if they are.  "I think that the Gamemakers wanted to make sure that what the girl from Five did today wasn't the mentors' idea.  But that doesn't explain why you needed to talk to Snow."

 

"Of course not, you're not thinking far enough ahead.  Haymitch and I needed to talk to Snow to assure him that everything that happened today had nothing to do with us and our tributes.  Why, Peeta was as surprised as we were when she died and it was clear that he had no idea what those berries could do or he'd have tried to stop her."  It's a clever speech, a well rehearsed one.

 

I call her on it.  "How long have you had that speech planned?" I keep my voice low and tilt my head down to try to hide my mouth.

 

Effie gives me a genuine smile of approval not the fake one she uses when she's in full escort mode.  "A while now, I was fairly certain that the girl wouldn't be able to do what her mentors clearly thought she could do."

 

"What's going to happen to them?" 

 

Effie shrugs.  "That's up to President Snow to decide.   They grossly misread their tribute and failed to inform the Gamemakers when it became clear that she was deviating from their plan."

 

I'm floored.  "You mean to tell me it would have been okay if she'd used the berries to kill every one of her alliance, but it's not okay for her to kill herself?"

 

"That's exactly what I'm saying.   She was in the Games to live or die for the Capitol's pleasure.   If she'd used the berries on someone other than herself, she'd have been feted around the city, assuming she won of course.  Now, her district will be lucky to not have stricter quotas and penalties for bad behavior."

 

There's a warning in Effie's words and I don't push any further.   Instead I ask, "So what do we do now?"

 

But she isn't the one who answers me.  "You two girls come back downstairs.  I think I might have a way to improve on our boy Finnick's idea," Haymitch says from behind me.  

 

He leads Effie and me not to the main room of the apartment like I expected, but to the elevator.   Punching the down button, he turns to us.  "So our problem is that our kids need a decent weapon or two for the final confrontations and as all of us know weapons are the most expensive items to send in the Games."

 

"Indeed we do know this, why are you explaining it again?" Effie asks in annoyance.

 

The elevator arrives and Haymitch motions for us to step in.  "I'm just bringing the girl here up to speed."

 

"I'm up to speed," I tell him.  "So get on with it.  What's your big plan?"

 

"Brooms."  The way he says it makes it sound like I should be impressed or something. 

 

I'm not.

 

Neither is Effie.  "Brooms?  What are they going to do with brooms, clean up the clearing?  Brilliant idea, Haymitch.  What next?   Buckets to mop it all down?"

 

Haymitch smirks at the two of us.  "And you both are thinking like the Capitol.  You got to think outside the box.  What's a broom but a long straight stick with some straw at the end?  And what's a spear but a long straight stick with a knife at the end?"

 

"So you're going to send them brooms in the hope that they'll be able to think like you?"  I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.   "I don't see that happening.  Not everyone lives in a drunken haze like you."

 

"That's why we're also going to send them replacement spearheads."  He pauses to look at us.  "But we gotta time it right.   Send them together and the Gamemakers will think something's up.   Send 'em separate and the kids might not get the right ideas."

 

"So what's your plan Haymitch?" Effie asks, stepping out of the elevator at the ground floor.

 

"Two orders coming in at the same time.  One for two spearheads and medicine to get sent to the boy.  The other for two brooms and twine to get sent to the girl.  With luck, the Gamemakers will think the brooms are essential for making larger nets or fishing and won't see the weapon possibilities."

 

"Let me see if the math works," Effie says and stares blankly into space for a few moments.  

 

I exchange a glance with Haymitch and he smirks back at me.  "It's gonna work, sweetheart, just you watch."

 

A couple of seconds later, Effie shakes her head.  "It'll be tight.  But cheaper than sending a weapon by itself.  What are you going to do with the extra money?"

 

"Extra money?   Is it really that big of a difference?"  I ask.

 

Haymitch handwaves us into motion.  "Replacement spearheads aren't cheap, but they're about as much as a knife and the brooms cost about as much as a spool of string.  That's why they're called replacements.  They're meant to fix broken or bent points.  They'll still have to assemble them, which will take time, but if they can stay unnoticed for a few hours our team will have a pretty effective pair of weapons and a way to trap any hostile tributes.  A whole hell of a lot cheaper than a single spear."

 

"The money, Haymitch, what are you going to do with it?" Effie presses.  

 

"I was thinking of ordering up a feast for them.   Give them a nice hearty meal to give them strength for the battle to come," he answers.  "But there's no point in sending it to them if they can't figure out what to do with the presents we send them first."

 

"So that's why we're on the way to Mentor Central?  To send the first gifts?" I ask. 

 

"No," Haymitch says.  "We're on our way so that you, sweetheart can sit with Cecelia and as soon as Peeta and Prim twitch send them the stuff.  Effie and I are on the way there to take over first thing."

 

Effie shakes her head.  "Bad planning, Haymitch.   I'll stay up with Cecelia.  No one will think anything of it.  You and Katniss get some sleep.   I'll send an avox to get you up at dawn in the Arena or as soon as we send the gifts."

 

Haymitch nods at the change of plans.  "I keep forgetting you and Cecelia go back, Effie."

 

"It's probably because of all of the booze," she shoots back without any real heat.

 

"How do you know Cecelia?" I ask.  She's hinted at it a few times but now that it's out there I want to know.

 

"She was, no is, my friend.  One my mother bought and paid for," she answers me.

 

I'm shocked.   Then I remember a few nights ago at the reception, she told me that some Victors are bought to be companions to wealthy children.   "She did what you want to set up for Prim and that one family, right?"

 

Effie nods.  "Exactly.  It worked out well for the both of us.  I didn't have to worry about the reason why she was being nice to me, I already knew.  As for her, she didn't have to worry about me making a pass at her or asking her to do anything too out there."

 

"You call going wig shopping not too out there?" Haymitch teases.

 

"I didn't make her buy one," Effie defends.  "Besides, we had chocolate and ice cream afterwards."

 

"And that makes everything okay?"  I ask.

 

Effie shrugs.  "Cici would have told me if it wasn't.  We've been friends since the Sixty Fifth Games.  Or as much as anyone in the Capitol can be anyone's friend."  Her voice is sad and a little resigned and I find myself feeling sorry for her.   To live in a place where the only friends you can be sure of are the ones you buy or get bought for you.  No wonder the selling of victors is so popular.  It's not only a sign of status but also gives the buyer a sense of security, since they know that the only reason that the victor is there is because they are paid for.  

 

We get to Mentor Central and fill Cecelia in on our plan.  The grin on her face is almost feral.  "Sneaky bastard, aren't you, Haymitch?" 

 

"Aww, you're flattering me," he says with a dismissive hand gesture.  "I just like to think creatively."

 

Effie joins in.  "Let's just hope it doesn't get you into any more trouble."

 

"There ain't much left for them to take from me," he says bluntly.

 

Cecelia and Effie look away, abashed, and I wonder what happened to Haymitch that would make them react like that.  

 

I don't get a chance to ask, because Haymitch steers me away from them and to the elevator.  "No questions," he says firmly. 

 

I open my mouth to ask 'why' and then realize that's a question.  I decide on glaring at the man instead.

 

He just gives me a smirk and herds me into the elevator.  "It ain't your business and if you don't know, you're better off.  I don't need your pity."

 

Shrugging my shoulders, I exit the elevator at the sleeping room floor and head for the room I didn't sleep in last night while Haymitch goes to the other one.   The beds have been remade and this time have green sheets and covers instead of the blue of last night.   I wonder if each day is color coded as I change into another of their simple nightgowns.   I drape the clothes I was wearing over the foot of the bed to get into again in the morning and climb into bed.  

 

Even though less than two hours before I was wide awake, I fall asleep quickly.

 

 

**oOo**

 

The feeling of my bladder twinging painfully wakes me up a few hours later.   My daughter is awake and kicking or punching gleefully at it.

 

"You'd better stop that, if you know what's good for you," I mutter to my belly as I get up and make a beeline for the toilet.  

 

She doesn't, not that I expected her to listen anyway.  

 

When I finish peeing, I go back out into the main room and note that the clock on the wall reads four twenty in the morning.   I debate sleeping for a little bit, but decide against it.  Instead I go to pull on my clothes from last night to find they've been replaced with a simple pair of pants and a loose top.   I swear under my breath that this is the second time someone has snuck into my room without me noticing.   It bothers me a lot.  

 

Still, I appreciate the clean underthings and clothes.   Deciding that I have time to go down to the cafeteria, I take the elevator there instead of to Mentor Central.  

 

The place is empty like I thought, but there's an avox on duty ready to take my order.   It's not Lavinia, I'm thankful to see, but it still feels weird asking these silent people to wait on me.   I ask to have her bring me a plate of egg sandwiches with meat on them and a bowl of fruit on a tray I can bring upstairs.   There's no point in me eating by myself when I can watch the Games with Effie and Cecelia.  

 

The avox seems confused and I have to repeat my request, adding that I want to take it upstairs to the mentors on duty.  

 

The woman smiles at me and when she comes back about ten minutes later, I see she's brought two trays and another avox with her, this one carrying a little folding tray over one shoulder.   There's a few pitchers on one of the trays along with bowls of some kind of steaming mush.   On the other tray are my asked for sandwiches and a fruit salad.   Close enough. 

 

I try to take the tray from the avox, but the woman shakes her head.   I shrug and lead them to Mentor Central.  It feels odd having them trailing after me, but I'm not sure of what else I can do.

 

When I get to the top floor, Cecelia greets me with a grateful smile.  "Effie's about done," she tells me.  "And for that matter, so am I."

 

The two avoxes set up the food on the folding tray and leave us.   Cecelia and I watch them go.  "I'm still not used to this," I admit.

 

"Neither am I," she agrees.   "So what did you bring?" she changes the subject.

 

I tell her.

 

She smiles her thanks and picks up one of the sandwiches and bites into it gratefully.   I help myself to one of the bowls of mush and find that it's some kind of grain with dried fruit and honey.   It's good and I eat the whole bowl.  "Where's Effie?" I ask in between mouthfuls.

 

"She went to splash water on her face," Cecelia replies after finishing the bite in her mouth.   "She's exhausted but won't leave until someone else relieves her."

 

I'm a little surprised at the escort's determination and I say so.

 

Cecelia looks at me sympathetically.  "That's because you're not seeing the real Effie.  She's got her reasons to make sure that Peeta and Prim come home.  Just like all of us."

 

"What's your reason?" I can't stop myself from asking.

 

"Haymitch and Effie.  I count both of them as my friends.  I'd also like to see the two from Eleven win, but that's because Seeder and Chaff are also my friends.  But they've got three of them to spread the duties out between and Haymitch only has Effie, who's not even supposed to be helping him at this stage.  Her job is to coordinate appointments and make sure he gets to all of them on time.  You don't see any of the other escorts up here, do you?"

 

I shake my head.

 

"That's because they're all out gladhanding sponsors or setting up meetings."

 

"Where's Cinna?" I ask suddenly. "I haven't seen him around recently."

 

Cecelia stiffens beside me but answers my question anyway. "He's taking care of Rani's body."

 

I'm confused and it shows on my face. 

 

"The stylists of each district are responsible for making sure the tributes from their district look good in life... and in death."  She says it slowly and sadly and I remember that she was the most recent victor from Eight, which means that she's had to watch twenty tributes die since then.  

 

"But why is Cinna taking care of Rani?  She's from Five."

 

"That's because her stylist was unavoidably detained someplace else," Cecelia says dully.

 

I don't need to press any further, the implication is obvious.   Rani's stylist, along with her mentors, is now being questioned by President Snow for her act of rebellion.  

 

"They used to have the mentors do it," Cecelia continues without my prompting.  "Back before the Second Quarter Quell.  Woof used to tell me about it.  But then they started getting more and more legacy tributes and even the Gamemakers realized that having a grieving parent who's already a killer taking care of their child's body was a recipe for disaster, so they started making the stylists do it."

 

"I'm surprised anyone would want the job," I say honestly.

 

"Not many people do.  Explains some of the outfits, though," she says, giving me a smile.

 

Thinking back on the atrocities that Twelve's tributes have worn the last few years, things suddenly make a lot more sense.  

 

Effie finally comes out of the bathroom and is clearly surprised to see me up.   She's also happy to see the food and descends on one of the pitchers with a ferocity that surprises me.  

 

"Hot chocolate," Cecelia supplies.   "Never stand between her and hot chocolate, you'll lose a limb."

 

"I'll try to remember that."

 

Effie looks over at us, a dark brown moustache of chocolate on her upper lip.  "One could have worse vices."  She licks the chocolate away.

 

Cecelia laughs openly at the escort's antics and I can't help smiling.  I've never seen Effie like this before.  She seems almost human.  

 

Effie's expression changes from playful to serious a second later.  "Heads up, ladies, one of the tributes is waking up."

 

Sure enough, the cameras are zooming in on Cato and Clove.  The girl is stirring and extracting herself from Cato's arms.   She sits up and checks the fire next to them and adds a few sticks of wood to get it burning again.  Then she checks their food supplies which is even more pitiful than before.  Only a few crackers remain, she eats one and puts the rest away.  

 

Across the room, I can see Brutus from Two on the phone with someone.  

 

"Is he ordering up a gift?" I whisper to Cecelia.

 

She nods.  "It's late enough in the Games that most mentors spend everything that they have all at once.  That's why you see baskets of food, weapons, or medicine being delivered so late in the Games.   The mentors have saved up for one final push to try to give their tributes an advantage."

 

"So we're going to be doing the same thing?"

 

"Yeah, we are.   Haymitch is planning on spreading it out a little more, but we're essentially doing the same thing."

 

I watch Clove go through her morning routine, wondering what the mentors will be sending the two.   They've already gotten more expensive gifts than any of the remaining tributes with the pain medication for Cato's leg and the first aid kit after Cato was injured by Axel.  Although I'm guessing that the most expensive sponsorship gift so far this Games was Tacoma's axe, not that it did her any good in the end. 

 

I don't have too long to wait.  I can soon hear the unmistakable chime of the sponsorship parachute.  Clove hears it too and goes to the front of the cave to retrieve the gift.   She brings it back inside by the fire and opens the large bag. 

 

Inside are three smaller packages.  The largest turns out to be a plastic bag with three fist sized rolls.  The next largest package contains a hunting knife in a leather sheath with a small whetstone kit in a pocket on the sheath.   Clove smiles at this, now she has a way to take care of the weapons they have and an additional weapon besides.   The last and smallest package is a small plastic bag containing three packets of healing creme.   They're probably intended to be used on Cato, since Clove's wounds are minor other than the head wound she sustained at the bloodbath.  And no creme is going to be able to fix any injuries resulting from that.  

 

Clove goes over to Cato and wakes him up.  "We got presents!" she says by way of greeting.

 

Cato grumbles and sits up slowly.  "What kind of presents?"

 

Handing him one of the rolls, she replies, "Good ones.   Here, eat up, and after breakfast I'll put this on your leg." She holds up the healing creme.  "And then we'll get our weapons ready.   I feel like hunting today."

 

Cato smiles.   "So do I.  I could use some meat."  The way he says it makes it clear that he's not talking about food.  

 

Effie leaves to go wake up Haymitch and Cecelia and I watch the Careers go about their morning eating, most of the rolls and sharpening their weapons.   They're still making their preparations for the day when Haymitch appears sans Effie, who I'm guessing has gone back to the apartment to get some sleep and a change of clothes.     

 

He grunts at Cecelia and me and pours himself a glass of orange juice then adds a little of something from a flask to it.   "Have our boy and girl shown any signs of life?" he asks once he's downed the first glass and is working on his second.

 

Cecelia fills him in on what's happened.  Not much other than the Careers getting their sponsorship gift, which makes Haymitch smile. 

 

"Good," he says with a grunt.  "That means good ol' Brutie can't copy what we're gonna do.   Else he'd just steal our idea.  Can you stick around until one of the kids gets up, Cici?  The order'd sound better coming from you than sweetheart here."

 

"Sure thing, Hay," she replies.  "I was planning to anyway.  I don't sleep very well at this stage of pregnancy anyway.   It's like as soon as I stop moving the baby starts moving."

 

I nod, I've started to notice the same thing with my own pregnancy.  I'm not looking forward to it getting worse.  

 

Haymitch doesn't say anything but just helps himself to a sandwich and starts chewing.   I'm guessing he's not a morning person since Cecelia doesn't even try to have a conversation with him.  

 

Chaff comes in to relieve Rye, who's been manning Eleven's mentor station.   He nods at Haymitch and helps himself to a sandwich.

 

"Hey!  Get your own!" Haymitch says with his mouth full.  "This stuff's mine."

 

Chaff snorts and snags another sandwich for good measure leaving one on the tray.   "Not going to share with your old buddy?  I'm hurt."

 

"Screw that!   You know all's fair in love and the Games."

 

Chaff takes a large bite of one of his stolen sandwiches.  "You know that's the truth."

 

Deciding to ignore the two victors behind me, I turn back to watch the Games.   The sun is starting to light the sky in the Arena.  

 

Inside of the Cornucopia it's still dark but, I can see my sister start to stir as the bird song around the clearing gets louder.  She slips out of her sleeping bag and out of the Cornucopia.   There, she makes a beeline for the woods.  I can guess the reason why.  Peeta wakes up a few moments later and does the same thing.  I'm grateful that the Capitol's cameras don't follow them, although I'm sure there is someone watching.   There's always someone watching in the Games.

 

Morning business taken care of, both tributes meet back up at the Cornucopia.  This seems to be what Haymitch is waiting for.   He thrusts himself between Cecelia and me and picks up the headset, motioning for Cecelia to follow his lead.  He scrawls down what he wants her to order on a scrap of paper while speaking to the Gamemaker on the other end of the phone.

 

Cecelia nods and makes her call, ordering up the items on Haymitch's list.   I'm not sure I know why Haymitch is so insistent that the two gifts be ordered at the same time, but I go with it.

 

When they both finish their calls, Haymitch looks over at Cecelia and asks, "They give you any problems?"

 

The pregnant victor shakes her head.  "No, they were a little confused by the brooms since no one's ordered them before despite them being a standard catalog item.  But no, I didn't get any trouble."

 

Haymitch smirks.  "Good.  I wanted to make sure that we got two different Gamemakers.  If we got the same one, they might make the connection about what we're doing and jack the price up.  But now that the order's placed it's too late for them to do that even if they do figure it out."

 

"So are they going to deliver the gifts at the same time?" I ask.

 

Pouring himself another drink, Haymitch leans against the wall behind me, a satisfied smile on his face.  "Watch and see, sweetheart.  Watch and see."

 

Annoyed, I turn back to the main screen and see that the main cameras are now following Peeta and Prim.  They're checking the snares Prim set the night before, but they don't seem to be having much luck.   The only thing they find is the remnants of a groosling that was taken by a scavenger of some kind.    They head back to the Cornucopia with only a few greens and roots that Prim's gathered.  

 

"I wish we could go fishing," Prim says as she rinses the roots in the lake.  

 

Peeta shakes his head, his eyes scanning the lake for any threats.  "Not here, Prim.   We don't know what's in this lake and if any of it is edible.   Maybe we can go back to the pond or the stream later." He smiles down at her.  "After breakfast."

 

She sticks her tongue out at him.   "Fine.  But I want to look at your hand.  How is it feeling?"

 

He makes a face.  "Don't worry about it, Prim.  I'll be fine."

 

"You didn't answer my question," she says with a frown.

 

"No, I didn't.  Don't worry about it," Peeta repeats.  "Let's just concentrate on getting out of the Games and back home.  I'm sure the Capitol can fix me right up if we win."

 

Something about the way he says it makes me nervous and I'm not sure why.   "How bad off is Peeta?" I ask Cecelia.

 

She shakes her head.  "Your guess is as good as mine.   The trackers they have only monitor heart-rate and position.  I guess they thought if we knew just how bad off our tributes were it'd change what we sent them."  She shrugs.  "They'd be right.  The Gamemakers might know more, but if they do, they're not telling."

 

I frown even more.   How are the mentors supposed to do their jobs if they don't have all of the information that they need?   It doesn't seem right.  

 

I don't get an opportunity to say so, because Cecelia places a hand on my arm and points to the main screen.  The sponsorship gifts are arriving. 

 

There are two parachutes, one larger than the other, with items attached to them.   The first, the smaller package, sets down next to Peeta.  While the larger package, which by its shape contains the brooms, sets down next to Prim.

 

The two share a glance of mutual confusion and then move to turn off the beacons.   Taking their packages and the rinsed off food back to the opening of the Cornucopia, the two sit down.

 

"I've never seen a package this big before, Peeta!" Prim says excitedly.   "Why, it's taller than I am!"

 

"Why don't you open it up, Prim, and see what's inside?"  Peeta suggests.

 

My sister does, carefully undoing the plastic that's wrapped around the package so that it doesn't tear.   The spool of twine tumbles out first and lands at her feet and she picks it up.  "What's with people sending me string?" she asks. 

 

"They must like what you're doing with the stuff Katniss sent you."  He picks up the twine and eyes it.  "This stuff is thicker than what your sister ordered.   I bet you could make a net big enough to catch some pretty big prey." 

 

From behind me, Haymitch lets out a little whoop of happiness.  "The boy's figured that one out!  Now to see if they get the rest of the message."

 

"I thought that you couldn't send messages with the gifts," I say, confused, turning around to look at the man.

 

Haymitch rolls his eyes.  "Don't be so literal.  Of course I didn't send an actual message, but your boy's smart.  He'll catch on eventually."

 

"He's not my boy," I protest for what feels like the umpteenth time.

 

"You keep telling yourself that."  He motions to the screen.  "Now keep it down.  Some of us are trying to watch the Games."

 

I want to say something, throw something, so I settle on crumpling up the scrap of paper where he wrote what he wanted Cecelia to order and chucking it at him.  It hits him smack in the middle of his forehead and then rebounds into the glass he's holding.  I smirk at his surprised expression. I'm happy to see that my aim is still as good as it was pre-pregnancy. 

 

He fishes the paper ball out of his drink and drops it on the floor.  "Nice aim," he compliments me.

 

I don't acknowledge his words and just continue to smirk as I turn back around to watch the Games.  

 

Prim is finishing unwrapping the rest of her sponsorship gift, her expression growing more and more confused as more and more of the gift is revealed.   "Brooms?" she asks once they're fully uncovered.  "Why'd they send us brooms?"

 

Peeta looks as confused as my sister.  "Maybe they want us to clean up the place."  He looks out at the remains of the Career camp and their supply pile.  "I mean it is pretty messy."

 

"Peeta!" Prim exclaims, smacking him in the arm.  "Don't be silly!"

 

He shrugs.  "I'm not sure what else they'd want us to do with them, to be honest."

 

"Come on, kid, open your gift and then make the connection," Haymitch coaches from behind me.  

 

As if hearing her mentor's words, Prim says, "Why don't you open your package?"

 

"Good idea," Peeta says with a smile.  His gift is a lot smaller and in a simple plastic box.   Which is good, since Peeta's essentially handling it one-handed.   Flipping the latch holding it closed, he smiles at the contents.  He pulls out a round container and opens it up.  Inside is some kind of salve.  

 

Prim lets out a little cry of happiness at it.  "I know what that is!  It's medicine.  And the good kind too.  Oh Peeta, this is wonderful!  It could fix your hand and everything."

 

"That's great," he says, his voice betraying his relief.   "But there's more in here."

 

"There is?  Whatcha get?" my sister wants to know.

 

He reaches into the box and pulls out two spearheads.  They're about as long as his hand and very sharp, judging by the small slice on one of Peeta's fingers from where he poked himself.   

 

Prim looks at them, her confusion evident on her features.  "What are we supposed to do with these?"

 

Peeta looks at the brooms, the twine, and then at the spear points in his hand.  His face shows that he is clearly thinking through the timing and meaning of the gifts.  

 

"Come on," Haymitch mutters.  "Make the connection."

 

Peeta does.  It's almost like a light bulb has been flipped on because his whole face lights up with understanding and happiness.  "I think we're supposed to make spears out of these."

 

My sister doesn't get it.  "Huh?" she asks.  

 

Setting the spearheads down next to him, Peeta reaches over my sister to grab one of the brooms.  "Look, a broom's just a long straight stick with some straw stuck at the end.  Right?"

 

Prim nods.

 

"And a spear's just a long straight stick with a sharp point at the end.   Take off the straw and add the head Haymitch sent and we'll have two pretty good weapons."

 

And now my sister understands, but instead of looking happy, she looks concerned.  "I don't know how to use a spear, Peeta."

 

"It's not that hard," he tries to soothe her.  "You just poke it at what you want to hit."  He's very careful not to say that she'll be thrusting it at other people.

 

But my sister knows what he's implying, and she wrinkles her nose at the thought.  "Won't the other tributes just take it away from me?  I mean, I really don't know how to use a spear."

 

"They won't be able to, if they're all tangled up in a net," Peeta points out.

 

"I'm not sure if the net will be strong enough to hold someone for long," Prim counters.

 

Peeta looks at my sister seriously. "Prim, it doesn't have to hold them for long.  Just long enough.  We're a team.  We can do this.  With your skill at making nets and Haymitch's gifts.  We've a really good chance of winning this.  You've just got to believe in yourself."  He holds his good hand out.  "So what do you say, partner?"

 

Prim grabs his hand.  "Let's do this!"

 

"Yes!" Haymitch crows, dancing out to the center of the room.  "Take that!" He points to the two mentors from Two.   "And that!" he points to the big screen.  "How do you like these brass ones!"  He swivels his hips around lewdly. 

 

Beside me, Cecelia rubs her forehead wearily and turns to look at Chaff.  "Can you go get him to calm down before he says or does something more stupid?"

 

"You mean like that?"  He points to where Haymitch is now peeing on the 3D map in the center of the room.

 

"Yes, exactly like that," Cecelia says with a sigh.  

 

I shake my head at the man's antics.  This is why no one in Twelve respects the man, but putting his drunken displays aside, I can see a bit of a method to his madness.  By acting out in such a loud and obnoxious way, he's taking the attention away from Peeta and Prim and making the very carefully thought out plan seem to be nothing more than an alcohol soaked scheme that somehow worked.  

 

Chaff gets up and manages to herd Haymitch back over to behind Twelve's mentor cubicle.  He downs what's left of Haymitch's drink and pours him a glass of plain orange juice.  "You did good, Hay," he tells the drunken man.  "Now sit down and let the rest of us work."

 

Haymitch shakes his head.  "Gotta reward the kids.  The figured out m'plan." 

 

"Cecelia and your girl's sister can take care of that.  You just drink your juice and sober up before the nice people in white suits show up."

 

He's referring to Peacekeepers and I can see from the concern in Cecelia's eyes that that's a real fear.  

 

For his part, Haymitch just nods and obediently sips at his juice.  

 

Chaff turns back to us.  "You think you can handle this?   I've got to get back to my kids."

 

Cecelia nods, then yawns.  "I'm starting to get tired, but I think I can hold down the fort until a replacement comes."

 

"Who's up next?" Chaff wants to know.

 

"Johanna, I think.   Finnick's on for later, if we make it that far.  Are you going to need any help?" she asks.

 

Chaff shakes his head.  "Nah, Seeder, Rye and I have it covered and Beetee and Wiress have offered to step in if we need more help.  Better stick with drunk-ass here."

 

Cecelia nods.

 

"So what did Haymitch mean by 'rewarding the kids?'"  I ask when Cecelia looks at me.

 

"Effie mentioned that Haymitch was going to send them a basket full of food as a reward.  Something to refill their reserves before the end."  I can tell she's trying to be diplomatic, but it isn't working.   "Do you have any ideas?" she asks me.

 

I think about it.   I have absolutely no idea what Peeta likes and I don't think they have enough left for a stuffed turkey, which is Prim's favorite at home.  "How much money do we have left?" I ask instead, pulling up the computerized catalog and flipping to the food section.

 

Cecelia checks.  "A little over twenty nine thousand."

 

It still seems like a lot to me, but looking at the prices I can tell it really isn't that much.  The rolls that the two from Two got earlier are one thousand coin each.   It's insane.   Looking at the food, I can see that preserved food is more expensive than food that can spoil.   Raw food is even cheaper, but considering how exposed Peeta and Prim are I don't want to send them anything they'll have to cook.   I also note that food is cheaper over all if you can buy what's considered a package meal than individually.   For twenty five thousand, you can get what the Capitol considers a picnic lunch with four pieces of fried chicken, a bowl of macaroni and cheese, and something called coleslaw, with watermelon and brownies for dessert.   That leaves about four thousand for some miscellaneous food.   I pick out two apples at five hundred coin apiece and then another package meal of peanut butter and celery to round out the basket.  

 

Cecelia smiles in approval at my choices and phones in the order.   A few minutes later, Peeta and Prim are surprised by another parachute.

 

"Another one?" Peeta asks in surprise. 

 

"People must like us," Prim answers.

 

Peeta pokes her nose playfully.  "They like you.  Me?  I'm just along for the ride."

 

Prim smiles at him and then looks up at the sky.  "Thank you everyone!  You're the best sponsors ever!"

 

Good job, Prim.   Continue to make them love you, I think to myself.

 

Cecelia must be thinking the same thing as me because she leans over and says, "Your sister's a natural.  She and Peeta make a good team."

 

I agree.

 

My sister and Peeta carefully portion out some of the food to keep for later and start with the sauce covered cabbage and carrots that must be the coleslaw.   They don't have any utensils to eat with but they manage to make do with their knives and fingers.  

 

"Are you two done hogging the spotlight?" Chaff asks from beside me.

 

Cecelia looks over at him and grins.  "I think so."  The elevator doors open to reveal Johanna Mason in a simple skirt and top combo.  "In fact, my replacement's here so I am heading out."

 

"Good," Chaff says with a pleased grunt.  "Now it's my turn to stock up my tributes."

 

"Have fun!" Cecelia tells him, standing up and stretching.  

 

"Anything I gotta worry about?" Johanna asks when she gets to us.

 

Cecelia shakes her head.  "Should be pretty easy from here on in," she tells the victor from Seven.  "We just emptied out the accounts, so unless some major sponsorship money comes in you're just relegated to spectator status."

 

"Works for me," Johanna says.  "What's up with Haymitch?" she asks, nodding at where the mentor from Twelve has fallen asleep against the wall, still holding on to his juice glass.

 

"You know what Hay's like," Cecelia replies cryptically.

 

Johanna seems to get it because she snorts.  "Yeah, I do.  Get going.  I've got this and I'll take care of lover girl here."

 

"Thanks.  Don't be too rough on her, Jo," Cecelia says.

 

Johanna doesn't bother to reply which doesn't bode well for me.   The victor from Seven takes a seat and waves over an avox.   She puts in an order for coffee and warm cinnamon rolls.   Then looks at me and doubles her order.  

 

I try not to bristle at everyone feeling the need to feed me, especially not since my conversation with Finnick.  But it still rankles having people decide things for me.  

 

When she's done, she looks back at Haymitch and then to the avoxes who are busy cleaning up the 3D holographic map he urinated on earlier.   "So what'd Hay do, exactly?  Did he throw up?"

 

I shake my head and fill her in on the morning's excitement. 

 

Johanna laughs when I get to the part where he made a fool of himself.  "Good on him.  I never liked that map much anyway."

 

"So now what do we do?"  The morning's only half over even if it feels like longer.

 

Johanna leans back and puts her feet up on the desk.  "Nothing.  You heard Cecelia.  Unless a last minute sugar daddy comes through for the kids there ain't nothing we can do but watch and pray."

 

Beside me, Chaff gets on the phone finally and places an order.   He's speaking too low for me to hear him but I see the results of his call a few minutes later.  

 

The cameras change over to show Rue and Thresh.  From what I can tell, they've been up for a while and have been walking the whole time.  

 

Johanna sucks in a breath beside me and leans over behind me to ask Chaff, "You've sent them something right?"

 

He nods, but he looks as tense as Johanna sounds.

 

"What's wrong?" I ask.

 

Chaff looks at me seriously.  "They're too close to the edge of the Arena.   Ever since Sleeping Beauty back there pulled what he did in the Fiftieth they've put in proximity traps when a tribute gets too close to the edge."

 

I frown.  "Like what kind of traps?"

 

Johanna shrugs and answers, "Could be anything from a mutt to a tree falling to fire jets.   Whatever sick stuff the Gamemakers can come up with."

 

"How close to the edge are they?"

 

Shaking his head, Chaff says, "I don't know.  Too close for my comfort."

 

I'm distracted from asking any more questions when the parachute containing Chaff's sponsorship gift arrives.  

  
Rue is the first to notice the incoming package and points it out to Thresh.  "Look!"

 

Both of them stop and a smile touches the normally stoic Thresh's face.  "It's about time.  I was wondering if we had any sponsors at all."

 

"Of course you had sponsors!  You're big and strong," Rue says a little shyly.  It goes unsaid that Rue isn't and probably doesn't have much in the way of sponsorship money.  Although she has killed someone, unlike my sister.  

 

They detach the basket from the parachute, but fumble for a bit with the beacon.   It takes them a few tries to turn off the light beeping sound.

 

Then they open up their package to see what was inside.   There's a knife with a whetstone kit much like was sent to the Careers from Two.  

 

From across the room, Brutus glares at Chaff, who for his part merely smirks and offers the opposing mentor a little mocking salute.   I smile at the gesture then turn back to the screen to see what else Rue and Thresh have.

 

Thresh takes out a pair of small fingerless gloves and immediately hands them to Rue.  "For you, I think."

 

She takes them and puts them on and flashes the large boy a happy smile.  "Now my hands won't get so cold!"

 

"Now if they could only do something about the rest of you,"  Thresh teases.

 

"Hey!  I can't help it if I'm small!"  Rue protests with a pout. 

 

Her partner just smirks a little and goes back to seeing what they have in their package.   He pulls out a little pouch that looks like the same first aid pouch that Prim got at the beginning of the Games.   They don't open it to check so I can't be sure.  Up next are a few potatoes, two ears of corn, and something lumpy wrapped in white paper.  That's it.  

 

Thresh opens the lumpy package to find that it's a shoulder roast from some kind of animal.  Probably a pig, goat or sheep, judging from the size.

 

"Why'd they send us this?" Thresh asks in confusion.  "Are we supposed to eat it raw?"

 

Rue giggles.  "No silly!   We're supposed to cook it.   They probably saw us cooking at the camp and this was a way to save money."

 

Thresh eyes the meat warily.  "I hope you're right, otherwise someone up there has--"

 

He doesn't get to finish his thought because from behind him comes two low growls.

 

Muttations!

 

 

**oOo**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written: 11/23/13  
> Revised: 12/13/13  
> Beta read by RoseFyre
> 
> This ends the never ending sponsorship gift chapter. Seriously, I was not joking that this chapter was mostly about stuff and things. It really was. I do find it amusing that this chapter will be coming out before Christmas this year. It's like it knew it was going to be the holiday chapter. It knew!
> 
> I really need to say thank you to RoseFyre again for this chapter. She spent probably three hours or more with me on the phone helping me figure out just how much money each tribute had, what gifts I should go with based on what we see in canon, then doing math with me to figure out how much something would cost at this stage in the Games. Seriously. She deserves props.
> 
> So long chapter was long. Only two more chapters of the Games themselves then four more taking place after the Games as currently outlined. It can change. But it really looks like six more chapters before this puppy is done. Forgotten, Gale's side chapter, is also being updated biweekly on Tuesdays.
> 
> Up Next: The Mutts attack!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	30. Chapter 30

**oOo**

**Chapter Thirty**

 

Muttations.  Two of them.  Large, yellow cats with glittering gold eyes and dagger-like elongated canines are poised behind Rue and Thresh, ready to pounce on the two tributes.

 

Thresh doesn't hesitate.  Hurling the shoulder of meat in his hand at the closest mutt, he yells, "Run, girl!  Run and don't look back!"

 

Rue runs. 

 

Grabbing the knife they just got in the basket, Thresh follows hot on her heels.

 

The two mutts are slower to react.   Both of them leap for the hunk of meat Thresh threw, latching on to it within seconds of each other.   There's a quick tug of war to decide who gets the easy meal, with the larger of the two cats winning.  

 

The smaller of the two muttations snarls and swipes one paw at the larger.   The larger lets out a huge roar  and the smaller one decides to go after safer prey.  Namely Rue and Thresh.

 

From beside me, Chaff swears and Johanna echoes him.   "Damned kids set off a proximity trap," she mutters.

 

"Is that what those two are?" I ask, my eyes fixed on the screen where the small lead that Rue and Thresh have is shortened by a few inches every second.  "Couldn't the Gamemakers have sent them after Rue and Thresh?"

 

"Not with the two Careers going on the hunt and your two so close to them," Chaff answers me.   "They'd wait until later in the day before they'd try anything to capitalize on the increase in viewers.  This is a proximity trap plain and simple."

 

It may be a proximity trap, but it's still frightening to watch the cat muttation chase Rue and Thresh through the woods.   They're dodging around trees and through bushes.   They don't even have time to try to catch one of the low hanging limbs and climb to questionable safety.  The cat is on their heels and if it's anything like Buttercup, it can climb trees.  

 

Closer and closer the cat comes. 

 

Thresh tries to slow it down by flinging branches he's ripped off of trees at the mutt. 

 

It doesn't help.

 

From up front, Rue lets out a little cry and comes to a halt.  They've reached the edge of the cliff that runs by the Cornucopia clearing and around the edge of the Arena.  Below them about thirty feet is a wooded swamp and all around the edge of the cliff is more forest.

 

"Thresh!" Rue yells.  "Which way?"

 

Seeing what she's standing on the edge of, he shouts, "Left!" 

 

Rue turns in that direction and starts running again.  

 

Beside me, Chaff is chanting, "Wrong way.  Turn around.  Wrong way.  Turn around." Left leads them closer to the other edge of the Arena.

 

Rue takes less than twenty steps before she's forced to stop again suddenly.   A large tree falls directly in front of her, halting her escape.  "Now what?" she yells.  

 

"Go back!  Go back!" Thresh orders.

 

But there's no time to go back.  The mutt's in the way.  They're blocked in.   The two tributes stand with their backs to the fallen tree, the cliff to their left.   The mutt, no longer running, stalks them slowly, carefully, its tail swishing behind it.     

 

Thresh steps in front of Rue and pulls the knife out, his eyes never leaving the cat in front of him.

 

Behind him, Rue looks around frantically, trying to figure out an escape.   Her eyes light on the fallen tree and she says, "I have an idea!"  She starts to climb the fallen tree trunk, using the branches as handholds.

 

She walks along the trunk toward the edge of the cliff; her eyes are fixed on a large black willow about ten feet from the edge of the cliff.  "I think I can make it to that tree down there."  She points at the willow.

 

Thresh doesn't turn to look.  "Good.  Then do it!"

 

"But what about you?"  she calls back.

 

"Don't you worry about me!   Just jump!"  His eyes never stop tracking the mutt.

 

Rue takes a deep breath and inches forward along the fallen tree trunk.   The microphones in the area pick up the sound of groaning as the girl's weight tips the tree along the edge of the cliff.   The camera pans back to show that the fallen tree was felled by an explosion of some kind and doesn't have a root system weighing it down. 

 

I wish I could hear what the commentators are saying right now, but that's not how it works in Mentor Central.   I'm guessing that they're talking about how the tree is now top heavy, with the heavy part now dangling over the cliff.   

 

"Don't go any further, girl," Johanna mutters beside me.

 

As if she was able to hear the mentor from Seven, the girl from Eleven stops inching forward and eyes the distance between herself and the black willow that is her goal.  She takes a deep breath and lets go of the branches stabilizing her.    Fixing her eyes on the willow, she bends her knees and jumps.

 

She soars through the air a good five feet, her hands outstretched to grab the limbs of the tree she's aiming for.  A branch from the fallen tree scrapes her leg but she doesn't lose sight of her goal.  

 

She hangs there for what seems like several agonizing seconds before the fingers of one hand wrap around one of the branches from the willow tree, the fingerless gloves protecting her hands from the rough bark.  She grabs on with the other hand and pulls herself up onto the limb. 

 

Chaff slaps his good hand against his thigh.  "The girl made it!   Damn!"

 

The girl in question is rummaging in her pockets and she pulls out her slingshot and a few smooth stones.  "Thresh!   I'm safe.   Now you jump!"

 

"I can't!" he calls back.  "I'm not as agile as you."

 

"But you're strong!  You can do it," the little girl encourages.

 

Thresh shakes his head.  "I can't take my eyes off of this mutt!"

 

Rue pulls back her slingshot and fires, hitting the mutt in the leg.  The mutt whirls to face the new threat with a snarl.  "You let me take care of the mutt!"

 

Thresh doesn't need to be told twice, he clambers up onto the fallen tree and carefully starts inching his way along the trunk, the knife still clutched in his hand.  

 

The mutt, not seeing any threat, turns back to Thresh and takes a step toward the vulnerable tribute.  

 

Rue fires her slingshot again.  This time hitting the cat on its side with a loud thwack.  

 

The mutt whirls around again, this time spotting Rue in the willow tree.   It lets out a low growl and starts toward her.  

 

"Hurry up, Thresh!  It's spotted me and I think it's angry!"  Rue calls.

 

Thresh glances over his shoulder at the mutt.  "I'm hurrying.  I don't think I can go much further though."

 

It's true.  The fallen tree is groaning and shaking more than when Rue was on it and Thresh is still several feet away from where Rue made her leap.  

 

"Just a little farther Thresh!  You can do it!" Rue shouts encouragement, taking her eyes off of the mutt.  

 

The muttation reaches the edge of the cliff and seems to gauge the distance between where it's standing and the tribute shooting rocks at it.  

 

As if to piss it off more, Rue loads her slingshot again and aims it at the mutt's head and fires.

 

Bullseye!

 

The stone hits the cat right in its left eye.   The mutt lets out a horrible roar full of pain and anger, shaking its head.

 

I can see a thin trail of blood seep out from the closed eye.   Good.   It's partially blinded and now its depth perception is gone.  

 

"Nice shot!" Johanna comments to Chaff.  "Your girl's got some skills."

 

Chaff smiles proudly.  "That she does!  She's full of surprises."

 

"Your boy better be full of them too, I think he's gone about as far as he dares."  She nods at the screen.

 

It's true.   Thresh has reached about as far as he can along the tree trunk without tipping it into the swamp below.   Using the knife in his hand, he hacks off some of the branches sticking out around him to try to allow him a few more precious inches.  But even that has its limits.

 

Even worse, the mutt, its left eye closed and bloody, takes notice of him again.   It leaps onto the trunk of the fallen tree and starts to stalk down its length.  

 

Thresh literally is out of options.   He sheathes his knife and takes a few deep breaths.   He's got to time this right.  

 

Bending his knees, he pushes off  from the fallen tree trunk and toward the tree Rue is in.  

 

He misses the first branch he grabs at.  And the second.

 

He finally manages to wrap his fingers around the third but is unable to get a good grip and the branch slips away, taking away some of the flesh on his right hand with it.   There aren't any more branches sticking out for him to grab and he lands face first on the soft earth of the swamp with a heavy thud.

 

"Thresh!" Rue cries, scrambling down the trunk.

 

He doesn't respond.

 

"Is he alive?" I ask the mentor from Eleven.

 

Chaff nods his head.  "Yeah.  Not sure what kind of shape he's in though."  His whole body is tense as he watches Rue climb down the tree toward her fallen district partner.

 

She reaches the bottom and runs over to the boy.  "Thresh!"  she cries again.

 

This time a feeble groan answers her. 

 

"You okay?" she asks, kneeling down next to him.

 

Thresh groans again and manages to roll himself over with Rue's help.  "I feel like I've been hit by a train."

 

"You gonna be okay?" she asks worriedly.

 

Her partner nods his head then groans.  "Let me lie here for a bit.  Okay?  I got the wind knocked out of me."

 

She nods and sits back on her heels. 

 

"What happened to the mutt?" he asks after a minute.

 

Rue shakes her head.  "I don't know.  Maybe it went away."

 

"Mutts don't go away," he disagrees with her.  "Not in the Games."

 

He might be right.  Most of the time in the Games, the mutts will keep showing up whenever the Gamemakers want more excitement or better ratings.   I look over at Johanna, who just shrugs.   She doesn't know and the main cameras aren't going to show us the answer.

 

"At least they have some time to recover," Chaff says, mostly to himself.  

 

"Maybe not," Johanna disagrees.  "Look at Two."

 

Chaff and I both follow her directions and look across the room at the District Two mentors.   Brutus and his co-mentor, Enobaria, both look excited.   That's not good news.  The only thing they could get excited over is if their tributes are getting close to another set of tributes.  

 

I know that Clove and Cato were planning on going hunting for tributes this morning, but with all of the gifts being delivered I've lost track of where they are.   I only hope it's not near Peeta and Prim.

 

I glance down at my monitors to see how my sister and Peeta are doing.  They've managed to saw off the end of one broom and Peeta is working on attaching the spearhead with string to one end.  His injured hand is partially uncovered and I can see that there's the faint sheen of medicine on the wounds.   His ring finger and pinky finger are still bandaged up and he seems to be fumbling a little bit with his task.  

 

My sister is seated next to him against the Cornucopia.  She's got the heavier duty twine out and is doing her best to make an open weave net.   From scanning the area around them, I can see that it'd be almost impossible for the two from District Two to sneak up on them.

 

That's a relief.

 

I turn my eyes back to the main screen to see that they've popped up the picture within a picture that they always do when one tribute is sneaking up on another.  

 

I can make out that Cato and Clove are in the same swamp that Rue and Thresh are in.

 

"Damn!" Chaff swears heatedly.  "They must have heard the mutt or something."

 

Johanna nods her head.  "Probably that or the falling tree.   Tough luck man."

 

"Don't count them out yet," Chaff shoots back.  "They could still pull this off."  It sounds like he's trying to convince himself of that.

 

The screen changes perspective and I can see that Clove and Cato have spotted Thresh and Rue.   The girl, who is in the lead, holds up one hand and motions for Cato to stop.

 

He does.  

 

Carefully, she pulls out a knife and adjusts her grip.  She tiptoes forward and hides behind a tree.  From where she's hiding, I can see that she's got a good line of sight on Rue's unprotected back.  

 

The cameras shift perspective back to Rue and Thresh.  I can make out Clove from over Rue's shoulder.  I'm willing Thresh to look up and see the two from Two, but I'm guessing that he's either too dazed or Rue's body is blocking the way.  

 

All any of us can do is watch and hope.  

 

Then all hell breaks loose.  

 

Clove steps out from behind the tree and hurls the knife in her hand into Rue's unprotected back.   It's a direct hit.

 

Rue slumps forward across Thresh's chest, startling him.  

 

A cannon sounds.

 

That seems to be the signal Cato is waiting for because he limps forward with a primal yell, brandishing his short sword.

 

Thresh pushes Rue's body off of him and struggles to get to his feet.  He's breathing heavily, but he's moving.

 

Clove swears and pulls out another knife.

 

Cato charges forward, attempting to run Thresh through, but the ground is soft and springy and hard to run on, especially on Cato's bad leg.    He misses with his first swing and Thresh pushes him out of the way on his second.  Cato falls to the ground.

 

Thresh turns his attention to Clove, who's attempting to line up a shot with another knife.    He reaches into his pocket and draws out his knife and hurls it at her, not even bothering to aim it. 

 

The girl ducks.   It's a mistake.

 

Thresh charges her.  He's not as fast as he was at the bloodbath.  He doesn't have to be.   He knocks the knife from Clove's hand and hurls her into a tree.  

 

From behind him, Cato roars like a beast when he sees Clove go down.  Clutching his sword in his hand so tightly that his knuckles turn white, Cato lumbers to his feet and charges the larger boy.

 

Hearing the boy from Two's feral cry, Thresh turns in time.  He steps to one side and grabs Cato's outstretched arm.   He twists it sharply and the unmistakable sound of bone cracking echoes through the room.

 

Cato screams.

 

But Thresh isn't done with him, he grabs the Career into a massive bear hug.  He squeezes.

 

Cato fights back, beating his good arm against the side of Thresh's head as well as kicking and biting.

 

Thresh winces from the blows and from the injuries he sustained in his fall, but he doesn't let up. 

 

Tighter and tighter he squeezes, until once again the crack of bones breaking echoes through the Arena.   

 

Cato screams again and his legs stop kicking to dangle in the air.

 

The sound rouses Clove from where she's been lying, dazed.   She looks up and I can see that she's got a bloody nose from where it impacted against the tree trunk.   The Career shakes her head to clear it and picks up her knife from the ground where she dropped it.

 

She pulls herself to her feet, using the trunk to brace herself, and turns around.

 

Thresh is still holding onto Cato, who's still struggling, albeit weakly, to get free.

 

Clenching her jaw in anger, Clove tightens her grip on her knife and runs up behind Thresh.  She jabs the blade to the right of Thresh's spine right into his kidney.

 

The boy from Eleven squeals and lets go of Cato.

 

The male Career crashes to the ground, grunting out in pain.  

 

Clove pulls out the knife and steps back to make another thrust.

 

Thresh turns around to face the girl.  He's moving slowly, painfully.  He swipes out with one hand at the Career but she avoids his clumsy attack.

 

Darting in, she raises the knife again and plunges it into Thresh's chest.

 

The large boy goes down, clutching at the weapon sticking out of him.  

 

Sensing that Thresh is no longer a threat, Clove runs to her partner's side.  "Cato!"  She rolls him over onto his back, nestling his head on her lap.

 

He tries to smile up at her.   It comes out more like a grimace.   "Hey," he manages to get out.  "Is he dead?"

 

Clove looks over to where Thresh is lying.   "Close enough.  He'll be dead soon."

 

A cannon booms.

 

"See," she says, stroking his brow.   "It's just down to the two from Twelve and we can both go home." 

 

Beside me, Chaff is slumped over on his console.   Johanna's next to him, rubbing his shoulders in sympathy.  

 

"I'm sorry," I say awkwardly, all the while thinking that Peeta and Prim are one step closer to making it home.   I'm glad my sister and Peeta didn't have to kill their friends, but it doesn't mean that I wanted to see Rue and Thresh die.

 

Chaff turns his head over to me, I can see that there are unshed tears glittering in his dark eyes.  "It's not your fault," he tells me, stressing the word 'your.'  "You're not the one who did this."  He straightens up and Johanna steps back.   "My kids gave it a good run.  We just got to make sure the right people come home now."

 

I nod.  

 

Excusing himself, he leaves Mentor Central.  Probably to do the exit interviews that always come after a tribute death.   Johanna and I watch him go.

 

"Come on," the victor from Seven says.  "The Games aren't over." 

 

No, they aren't.  I focus my attention back to the screen to see that Clove is still cradling Cato in her lap.

 

She's running her hands over his chest and arms, stopping when she reaches his right arm.  The one that Thresh broke.  

 

Cato hisses in pain and she pulls her hand away.   "Sorry.  I'll just fix you up.  Let me see what the meat were carrying."

 

The boy in her lap shakes his head.  "No... don't leave."

 

"I'm not going anywhere, silly.  I'm just going to see what I can find to splint that arm."

 

"The arm's not the problem," he gets out through clenched teeth.   

 

"I don't see any other wounds.  What did that piece of meat do to..." She trails off as if realizing for the first time just how hurt Cato really is.  "Cato?" She looks at him fearfully.  "What did he do?"

 

Cato winces as he struggles to move and isn't able to.  "Broke my back, I think.  Like he did Reef from Four."

 

"But you're stronger than Four.   You didn't die," Clove points out, a bit desperately.

 

"I'm not sure I'm not going to," he whispers.

 

"No," she says, shaking her head.  "No!  You're not going to die.  I'm not going to let you."

 

"Clove..." he tries.

 

"No!  You're just in shock.   I'll fix your arm, and we'll be okay."  She starts to get up.

 

Reaching up with his good arm, he stops her.  "I can't move my legs, Clove."

 

She stops and sinks back to the ground next to him.  "No.  You're wrong."

 

He shakes his head.  "I've been trying to move them since he dropped me.   I'm done."

 

"You're not done!  You're not!   We can still do this.  We can still win!"

 

He runs his fingers down her jaw.  "You can still win.  Me?  I'm just dead weight."

 

"You're not dead weight!  You're alive.  You're talking," she protests.

 

"But for how much longer?" he asks reasonably.  

 

She looks around.  "Twelve can't be that hard to find.  I'll just kill them quickly." She pauses.  "Maybe not so quickly with the male.  But then we'll win and the Capitol will fix you right up and we can both go home."

 

Cato looks away, his face showing all of the pain and frustration he's feeling.  But there's another expression on his face too -- resignation.   "I don't think the Capitol can fix this."  He motions to his legs.

 

"But-"

 

"No buts," he cuts her off, the frustration has been fixed with a kind of resolve.  "I don't want to be a cripple.  A worthless old cripple who has to have someone take care of them for the rest of their lives.   I don't want to be a burden to you."

 

"You wouldn't be a burden!" she protests.  Her face is stricken and it's very clear that she knows where he's going with this line of conversation. 

 

"Yes, I would," he reaches up to cup her cheek, wincing in pain as he does so.  "You know what you need to do."

 

"No..." she whispers.

 

"You know the rules, Clove.  Any ally who is no longer able to pull their own weight must be put down."  It sounds like he is quoting something and I see the two mentors from Two stiffen slightly at his words.   The rule is probably from the Career training camps.  It also explains why Enobaria was angry at Cato for not killing Clove after the bloodbath.

 

Something that Clove points out.  "You didn't kill me after the bloodbath."

 

"I knew you would recover," he tells her.  "I'm not going to recover from this and you know it.  Just do it.  Please, Clove.  Just do it."

 

She nods her head, tears streaming down her face and mixing with the blood from her nose.   She wipes them away, smearing the whole mess even worse.  

 

Cato smiles and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a scrap of bandage.   He hands it to her and she wipes away as much of the blood and tear mix as she can.  

 

"Better?" she asks.

 

He nods.  

 

She leans down and kisses him.  Then pulls away to plant smaller kisses on his cheeks, eyelids, and forehead. "I love you, Cato.  I'll always love you."

 

"I love you," he whispers back.  He looks up at her, the pain and resignation clear on his face. "Please do it now.  I'm ready."

 

Reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulls out another knife.  She holds it in both hands and plunges it down into Cato's chest.

 

He screams once, then falls silent.  

 

**oOo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written: 11/26/13  
> Revised: 12/28/13  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> Not really a lot to say. One chapter, three tributes die. For everyone who was worried about the muttations being the endgame, you needn't have worried. I didn't like the surprise muttation ending myself.
> 
> I've had it planned that Clove would kill Cato for a while. Two struck me as the kind of society that would take out those people that were considered a drain on society. I hinted at it earlier when I had Enobaria state that Cato should put Clove down when she was injured earlier on. Cato couldn't because of his feelings for Clove. Clove didn't want to, but only did so at Cato's urging. I tried to make it seem like leaving him there wasn't an option either.
> 
> I am currently visiting my beta reader, RoseFyre, who is a little bit tipsy and giggly while I am revising/typing this. And she's had maybe a glass and a half of wine. It's a little amusing. She also says hi, as she falls off the couch. If you wonder where I sometimes get my inspiration for a few scenes, wonder no more.
> 
> Tributes killed in this chapter and how they died.  
> Rue - District Eleven - Killed by Clove with a thrown knife.  
> Thresh - District Eleven - Killed by Clove knife to the back.  
> Cato - District Two - Killed by Clove - Mercy kill.
> 
> Up Next: We've got three tributes left... what do you think happens? I know! A musical number!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> See you in two weeks, I hope!


	31. Chapter 31

**oOo**

**Chapter Thirty One**

 

Clove gathers Cato into her arms and starts sobbing against his neck. 

 

Cato is dead.

 

She whispers his name intermixed with broken 'I love you's' and 'I'm sorry's' as she holds him, rocking back and forth slightly.   

 

Clove is crying.

 

From off in the distance, a cannon booms.

 

Across from me, I see Brutus talking with Enobaria solemnly before the female mentor gets up and heads for the elevator.  Probably to take care of the exit interview for Cato.  I remember that Enobaria didn't like that Cato spared Clove after the bloodbath.  I wonder how she feels now.

 

Then it hits me.  Only Peeta, Prim, and Clove remain in the Games.  

 

Clove is crying.

 

Next to me, Johanna is on the headset talking quickly and seriously to someone on the other end.   I don't know if it's Effie or Finnick or a sponsor.   I'm not sure if they allow sponsors at this stage.  It's a question to ask when she gets off of the phone.

 

Clove is crying.

 

Behind me, Haymitch stirs and I glance over my shoulder.  I'm surprised he's managed to sleep through all of the commotion and excitement of the last twenty minutes. 

 

Clove is still crying.

 

She's sprawled across Cato's body, the knife she plunged into his heart still sticking out of his chest.  It's a macabre scene and it's why I keep trying to find something else to distract me.   I don't want to watch this.  I feel sorry for the girl.  For what he begged her to do.  I shouldn't feel sorry for the two Careers because they had to die for my sister to come home.   Clove still has to die.

 

But she's still crying.  

 

I put on the headphones to attempt to drown out her tears.  It helps some. I can still hear her sobbing but it is muffled and I can hear Peeta and Prim's conversation in one ear.

 

Grateful for the distraction, I focus on the screens in front of me.  The ones showing Peeta and Prim.

 

They are both on their feet, expressions of concern and fear etched on their features.   They've heard the three cannons.  They know what that means.  

 

"Peeta..."  Prim starts, but the boy motions her silent.  

 

He stands at the alert, straining to hear something, anything, that will give him a clue as to the final tribute's identity.   He doesn't hear anything because there's nothing to hear.

 

Back in the swamp, Clove is still crying.

 

Glancing over at my sister, Peeta asks, "How much longer will it take you to finish that net?"

 

Prim looks at the partially completed net and then back at Peeta.  "I think maybe a few more hours.  It won't be very big though."

 

"It doesn't have to be big to be able to slow someone down," he tells her.  

 

She gets back to work, while he picks up the second broom and starts sawing off the brush end.   "I think that we shouldn't light a fire at all today," he says as he works.  "We don't have the night vision glasses and we have to assume whoever's left will have them."

 

"Why do you say that?" Prim asks, making a knot in the net she's weaving.

 

"Rue and Thresh took our pair," he says simply. "It makes sense whoever's left has them."

 

Prim stops mid-knot and stares at Peeta solemnly.  "Who do you think is left?"

 

He bites his lower lip before turning to her.  "I don't know.  What's worse is that I find myself hoping that it isn't Rue or Thresh because..."  he trails off.

 

"You don't want to kill them," my sister finishes for him.

 

He shakes his head.  "No, I don't."

 

"But you will," she all but accuses.

 

He sets the broom down and clenches his good hand.  "I will if it means that you get to go home to your family.  I'll do anything to make sure that happens."

 

He's not talking to Prim in that moment, I know it.  He's reminding the Capitol that he's got the nightlock from Rani and that he'll use it just like she did if he's forced to.  I'm not sure that it's a good idea, but I'm relieved to hear the words.   Peeta is going to keep the promise he made to me after he was Reaped to make sure Prim comes home.  

 

Behind me, Haymitch lets out a long whistle that is sharp enough to be heard through the headphones.  "Damn, I don't know if I want to compliment the boy for being smart or smack him for being an idiot."

 

"Why not do both?"  Johanna asks.

 

"I might if he makes it back alive,"  Haymitch answers.  

 

"When did you wake up?" I ask, removing the headphones from one of my ears like I saw him do a few days ago when I first came to Mentor Central.       

 

He smirks at me.  "Never was really sleeping, sweetheart.  Just resting my eyes for a spell."

 

Johanna just rolls her eyes and I decide to follow her example.   "So now what?" I ask, changing the subject.

 

"Now, it's up to that girl up ther."  He nods at the main screen where Clove is still crying.  "She's got to pull her act together and right soon.   Gamemakers won't stand for this much longer."

 

"What will they do?"

 

Johanna's the one who answers.  "It depends on how anxious they are to get the Games over.  This one's been going on almost two weeks.  They don't like to go over that.  It affects production."  She pauses, thinking for a bit.  "They could send in a mutt to herd her toward Peeta and Prim.  Or they could stage a natural disaster like a flood or rainstorm.  The mourning that she's doing, while pathetic at first, is starting to get annoying."

 

"You sure that ain't just your opinion?" Haymitch snarks.

 

Johanna just shrugs.  "If I'm starting to get bored with it, you can be damn sure the unsympathetic Capitol citizens are beyond bored and starting to complain."

 

He holds up his glass to her.  "Good point.  My guess is that the Games will be over before nightfall."

 

I want to say that it seems fast, but then I hold my tongue.   It's better that the Games finish sooner rather than later.   For all of their ability to keep themselves fed, both my sister and Peeta have lost a lot of weight.  Then there's Peeta's injury, which will get worse without medical attention.  

 

Haymitch motions to the main screen with the hand holding his drink.  "And it begins."

 

The cat-like mutt that had cornered Rue and Thresh earlier is now back.  It lets out a giant roar, startling Clove. 

 

She looks up at the mutt, panic in her eyes.  

 

The mutt meets her gaze and lets out a low growl.

 

Taking it for the warning that it is meant to be, Clove clambers to her feet and hastily grabs Cato's fallen short sword and Thresh's knife.   She doesn't have time to retrieve any of the other weapons or go through the tributes from Eleven's packs because the mutt makes a leap into one of the overhead trees.  

 

Clove runs.  

 

I can hear Johanna chuckling next to me. 

 

"What?" I ask testily.

 

"Not you, baby girl, the Gamemakers."  She motions to the main screen that shows the mutt.  "They're using the same strategy that they used on Titus in my Games."

 

The name sparks a memory and it comes to me.  Titus, the tribute from Six that went crazy and started eating the fallen tributes when the Capitol didn't collect them quick enough.   He finally got taken down by a group of mutts after cannibalizing his third tribute.   After that, the tributes got the message not to linger around dead bodies because a mutt would come after you and there'd be another dead body to add to the list.  

 

I'd forgotten this and apparently so had Clove.   The girl is running as if her life depended on it.   She falls twice on the uneven ground, but each time gets back up and continues running.  She doesn't stop until she reaches the edge of the wheat field.  

 

When she does, she turns around to see if the mutt is following her. 

 

It isn't.

 

Hugging Cato's short sword to her chest, she falls to her knees.  The tears start back up again but instead of just mindless sobbing I can see her lips moving.  She's talking to herself.

 

Through the speakers I hear her say, "I couldn't say goodbye.  They didn't let me say goodbye."

 

I shake my head at the girl.  She had nearly an hour of time to grieve and say her goodbyes.   More time than anyone else in the Games.  Almost as much time as the tributes are allowed to say goodbye to the people they care about after being reaped.  I don't feel a lot of sympathy for her.   Not anymore. 

 

She seems to realize that all of this crying is not doing her any good.   She climbs back to her feet, scrubbing away the tears with one fist.   "I'm going to show them.  I'm going to show them all."  She smiles, it isn't a kind smile. 

 

I'm worried about Prim and Peeta.

 

I'm not the only one.  "Damn, that girl's gone and lost it," Haymitch swears behind me.

 

"Did she ever have it to begin with, you know they breed them up a little cuckoo in Two," Johanna asks.  "You heard her earlier in the Games.  She's been on the edge of insanity this whole time."

 

Haymitch grunts but doesn't say anything more.

 

"How long do you think it's going to be?" I ask, not really directing my question at either victor.

 

Haymitch looks at me.  "Got someplace to be?"

 

"Other than the bathroom, not really," I retort.

 

Johanna snorts at the look on Haymitch's face then answers my question, "Probably a few hours.   Clove's got to find your sister and lover boy.  But first she's got to get up the cliff safely, Gamemakers and Snow won't like it if the girl falls and breaks her neck before the final showdown."

 

The Capitol might not like it, but I'm definitely for it.  "Does that happen a lot?"

 

Johanna shakes her head.  "Annie was pretty much the last one and the Head Gamemaker paid the price for his Arena's failure."  And that explains how someone of Seneca Crane's relatively young age became Head Gamemaker.  

 

Johanna's prediction seems to be correct.   Clove spends her time sharpening the one knife she's got along with Cato's short sword all the while alternating between muttering about killing Peeta and Prim slowly and crying over Cato's death.   It's a bit disturbing.

 

A little after noon, Finnick shows up with an avox bearing a lunch of lamb stew and rice.  

 

Johanna gives him a look.  "I thought you weren't coming on until later."

 

"Mags told me about what happened this morning.   Mags and Annie are going to help Seeder with the families while Rye and Chaff do the exit interviews."

 

"I hope you aren't expecting my seat," Johanna says acerbically. 

 

"Wouldn't dream of it."  Finnick flashes his famous grin at her then looks up at me.  "How are you holding up?"

 

There's something about the way he phrases it that makes me think that he actually cares so I don't snap at him like I would if someone else had asked the same question.  "I'm okay.   Tired.  But don't even think of trying to get me to go take a nap."

 

He flashes the same grin he gave Johanna.  "Duly noted."  

 

Back at the Cornucopia, Peeta and Prim finish their preparations.  The net Prim weaves is larger than any other net she's woven and she wields it clumsily.   Peeta sets up a pack so that she can practice throwing it while he keeps watch.  

 

About an hour later, he calls over to her, "I think you'd better stop for now."

 

"But I'm starting to get the hang of it!" Prim protests, throwing the net onto the pack to illustrate her point.  

 

"I know you are," Peeta soothes, "but you don't want to tire yourself out."

 

Prim nods.  "How long do you think it's going to be?" she asks him, unconsciously echoing my words from a few hours earlier.  

 

"I don't know," he says honestly.  "Part me hopes it will be today, while the sun is still up.  At night, we're vulnerable."

 

My sister makes a face but doesn't counter his statement.   "How do we make whoever's left come to us?"

 

He thinks about it for a few moments.   "We'll need something to get their attention."

 

"Like a fire?"  Prim asks.

 

"That would be good," he says with a nod.  "Maybe some noise or something to add to it."

 

"We could beat something against the Cornucopia.  Like maybe the butt of the spear or the handle of a knife."  

 

It's not a bad suggestion.

 

Peeta considers it.  "We could.  But whoever's left could think it was an animal or something."  He pauses, his face shows that he's thinking something through but isn't sure if it's a good idea.  When he finally speaks, he says, "I'm not sure this is the best idea, but I think you should sing."

 

"What?" Prim asks.

 

"What?" Haymitch and Johanna echo from where they are now sitting.

 

Finnick and I share a look.  "It's not a horrible idea," Finnick says after a moment.

 

"And why's that?"  Haymitch asks, turning in his chair to look at the other man.  

 

"You weren't here earlier, but Prim can sing.  Apparently not as good as Katniss, here, but she's not horrible.  Depending on the song, the mockingjays might pick it up."

 

I see the understanding dawn in Haymitch's eyes.  "And if it's a song that's known in all of the districts, like say the Capitol anthem, it would get spread all over the Arena."

 

"Do you think Clove's smart enough to backtrack the birdsong?"  Johanna asks.

 

"Only one way to find out."   Haymitch smirks gleefully, then stands up and yells,  "Hey, Brutus, you think your girl's smart enough to track a mockingjay call?"      

 

The large mentor from Two looks up from his console with an unfriendly expression on his face.   "What's it to you?"  Brutus asks, his voice indicating his suspicion.

 

"Just curious!" Haymitch retorts.   "My kids are itching to win."

 

"You mean they're itching to die."

 

Haymitch shrugs.  "So answer the question.   It's not like I can send them anything to help speed this up."

 

"Actually, we can," Johanna interrupts.

 

Everyone turns to look at her. 

 

She glares at us in annoyance.  "What?  I got a phone call from a sponsor giving us five thousand coin."

 

"And?" Haymitch prompts.

 

"You're not the only one who can think outside of the box, okay?   I did some checking while you were taunting Brutie over there."

 

Brutus growls at the nickname but doesn't say anything.  

 

Johanna continues, ignoring Brutus' reaction, "And we could send them a simple pan flute or a harmonica."

 

"A musical instrument?  Seriously?"  Brutus says from the other side.

 

Haymitch considers it for a moment before looking at me.  "Can your sister play an instrument?"

 

I shake my head.  We have music in the Seam, but it's mostly fiddles, banjos, and guitars and my family was too poor to own one.  

 

"What about the boy?" he demands.

 

"I don't know.   We only sang in school."  We didn't have any instruments to play, I don't bother to add.  Twelve is a poor district and its school reflects that.  

 

"Damn!"  Haymitch swears.

 

"Uh, guys, I think you'd better make up your mind soon," Finnick butts in.   "It looks like Prim's starting."

 

And she is.  Apparently I missed whatever discussion she'd had with Peeta about it because she starts singing and the song she picks tears at my heart a little.  It's an old lullaby, older than the districts, and it's the same one my father used to sing my sister to sleep with when she was a baby.   It's a very simple song, one about a father going out to get a rabbit skin to wrap his baby in.  There aren't a lot of words to the song, unlike the song I used to sing to her after our father died.

 

Because it's so simple, it doesn't take the mockingjays surrounding the clearing long to pick up the song.  

 

We all turn our eyes to see what Clove does.  The girl is walking through the wheat field heading toward the lake and the lower cliff's edge.   She must guess that wherever Peeta and Prim are it's not in the blind canyon that holds the wheat field and swamp.  I can tell when she picks up the strains of the birdsong, Prim isn't singing loud enough to be heard from where Clove's at, because the girl freezes. 

 

Then, a look comes over her face that I can only describe as maniacal and she chuckles a little under her breath.   "Little birdie's crying for mommy.   Don't worry little birdie, you and big brother will be with your mommy soon."

 

She heads toward the cliff base deliberately and when she reaches it, she walks toward the lake, to the cliff's lowest point.  

 

About ten minutes later at Peeta's signal, Prim sings the lullaby again.   The boy scans the edges of the clearing carefully, looking for any signs of movement or indication of the remaining tribute.  

 

From the base of the cliff, I can tell that Clove can actually hear my sister's voice because her smile becomes even wider.   "Oh, clever, clever birdies.  No way I'm going to get the drop on you.  Good.  It'll be more fun this way."

 

The girl secures the short sword and then places the knife in between her teeth.   She carefully places her hands and feet and starts to climb.   It's eight feet, but she's scaling it easily.  When her fingertips reach the edge of the cliff, she dangles there for a moment as if steeling herself for the final confrontation.   Then, she pushes up with her feet to give herself enough of a boost to make it over the cliff in one quick motion. 

 

It's not quick enough.   Prim spots her in mid-song and stops singing to yell, "Peeta!"

 

The boy whirls to see what caused Prim's alarmed cry.   Eyes widening at Clove, he moves to stand in front of my sister, the spear in his hands brandished in front of him defensively.  

 

Clove pulls the knife out of her mouth and hurls it at Peeta's head.  The boy was evidently expecting that and the hunter's knife isn't as aerodynamic as a throwing knife, so it flies slower, and he manages to duck.   Not by much, but it's enough that Peeta is able to dart out of the way and pull Prim along with him, although he drops his spear in the process.  

 

The Career draws the short sword and starts advancing on my sister and Peeta.  "Surprised to see me, Twelve?  You should have killed me when you had the chance.  Now I get to play with you and little sister all I want with no one to stop me."

 

From across the room, I hear Brutus start swearing.  I'm guessing because she didn't charge when Peeta and Prim were down and is now seemingly content with taunting the other two.  

 

Peeta takes advantage of Clove's mistake and picks up the spear he dropped.   "Not really," he answers.  "I'm glad to see Thresh and Rue managed to take out your partner, though." 

 

The girl from Two looks stricken for a second then tries to cover it with anger.  "And I killed them and I'm going to kill you too."

 

"You're going to try!"  Prim says from behind Peeta.  In one hand, she's holding the net she's made.  Behind her on the ground next to the Cornucopia lies the other spear.  She probably doesn't feel comfortable using the net and the spear together.  

 

Clove scoffs at my sister's bravado.  "Big words for such a puny tribute."  The older girl takes a step toward Peeta and Prim.

 

Prim refuses to let herself be baited.  Instead, she watches Clove's approach carefully.  She must be waiting for the Career to get in range of the net.

 

I don't know how long Peeta and Prim face off against Clove.  It feels like hours, but I know realistically it's probably only been a few minutes.   I respect that Peeta and Prim are standing their ground with the Cornucopia about five or so feet behind them.  They aren't trapped, but if Clove charges there isn't a lot of room to maneuver.

 

Clove continues her slow, deliberate advance.   She's taunting Peeta and Prim the whole time, but I try to tune her out.  Instead, I try to focus on Peeta and Prim's reactions.   Peeta is watching her carefully.  He's balancing on the balls of his feet like a wrestler, ready to react if Clove makes a move.   The spear he made is held in his hands defensively.   Prim shifts so that she's no longer directly behind Peeta.  Instead she's a foot or so to one side so that she can have a clearer shot at the Career.   

 

Then, it happens.        

 

Prim darts forward and throws the net in her hands at the Career.  The net sails through the air and settles onto Clove.  She strains against the rope attached to the net so she can try to pull the Career off-balance.   At least that's what it's supposed to do.  It doesn't work that way.

 

Clove sticks a hand through one of the holes in the net and grabs a hold of the rope and gives it a sharp tug. 

 

Prim is the one pulled off-balance and she stumbles toward the Career. 

 

Smiling, Clove tugs the rope again and pulls Prim toward her with her left hand.   "Hello, little girl, time to say goodbye to big brother now," she hisses gleefully, stabbing the short sword into Prim's abdomen through the net.

 

Prim's eyes widen at the pain and she folds up around the blade.

 

Clove kicks my sister off of the sword.  "Stupid girl," she says as Prim falls to the ground.  "She should have known better than to go up against me."  She smirks at a stunned Peeta.  "Now it's just down to you and me."

 

 

**oOo**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
>  
> 
> Written: 1/10/14  
> Revised: 1/12/14  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> I know the promised musical number isn't what you expected but still. Anyway, I'd apologize for the horrible cliffhanger, but honestly there was a very real chance that there wasn't going to be an update today. I've been gone for the last 5 of 6 weekends and most of the time I'd been publishing I'd been doing so from someplace other than my home. Unfortunately all of that travel and other real life things meant that I didn't get much of a chance to write. 
> 
>  
> 
> There is also a very real possibility that the next chapter of this and Forgotten may be delayed. This is because I have some very big real life things coming up as well as some surprise!Life things. I am going to try to push to have things done on time, but real life comes first. 
> 
>  
> 
> Up Next: The Games finally come to an end.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	32. Chapter 32

**oOo**

**Chapter Thirty Two**

 

I'm gaping at the screen, unable to believe what I've just witnessed.  Prim is down, a pool of blood soaking into the ground under her.  

 

Peeta seems to be in as much shock as I am.  He's staring at my sister with an expression of horror on his face.

 

Beside me, I hear Finnick mutter, "Pull yourself together, kid.  There's no cannon which means the girl's not dead yet.  But she will be if you keep standing there."

 

I blink and turn to stare at the mentor from Four.

 

He meets my gaze and shrugs.  "What?  I've been a mentor for almost ten years now.  No cannon means they're not dead."

 

I realize he's right.  Prim's not dead.   Not yet.  But the wound in her gut isn't going to do her any good.  I don't even know if she's conscious.  

 

Clove runs her thumb and forefinger along the edges of the blade, stripping the blood off of the weapon.   When she's done, she flicks her fingers at Peeta, sprinkling him with drops of my sister's blood.  

 

The splash of warm red liquid against his cheeks jolts Peeta out of his state of frozen shock.  Reaching up to wipe some of the blood from his face, he starts pulling himself together.   "How'd you do that?" he asks, shifting his grip on the spear in his hands.

 

"What?" Clove asks, flicking her fingers at him again.  "You mean use the net against her?  What do you think we are, idiots?  Ever since the pretty boy won in the Sixty Fifth Games, we've had training in how to counter nets."

 

Haymitch turns in his chair to glare at Finnick.

 

"Hey, I did what I had to in order to make it out," Finnick protests.

 

"But did you have to do it so flamboyantly?"  Haymitch grumbles.

 

The other man shrugs.  "Probably not, but I was fourteen at the time.   What'd you expect?  I was an idiot back then."

 

Haymitch smirks.  "Just so long as you acknowledge it."

 

"Will you guys shut up?"  Johanna snaps.  "Some of us are trying to pay attention here."

 

I find myself agreeing with her.  I don't want to be distracted by the two men.  I want to focus on Prim, and, to a lesser extent, Peeta.  

 

Peeta is now holding his spear offensively.  I can see that he's aware that there hasn't been a cannon sounding Prim's death yet and he's trying to figure out how best to attack the tribute from Two so that the Games can finally be over.  

 

"This is all your fault," Clove tells Peeta, feinting at his left side. 

 

He ignores the feint.  "Why do you say that?" he asks in an almost conversational tone as he lunges at her with the spear.

 

Clove evades the spear easily.  "You didn't die like you were supposed to," she answers, swiping at him with the short sword.   "None of you died like you were supposed to."  In between each word, she stabs at him and he's forced to retreat a few steps to avoid the tip of her weapon.   "This was supposed to be Cato's year to win.  Then he would come home and I'd win next year.   It was planned.   Perfect.  And you idiots from the outlying districts had to screw it up!"  She swings at him wildly.

 

Blocking her sword with the shaft of his spear, Peeta kicks out at the Career, forcing the girl to dance back and out of reach.   "What do you want me to say?  That I'm sorry that he's dead?"   Peeta asks in frustration.  "I am.   I'm sorry that anyone had to die in these Games.  Or any Games."

 

"Fuck!"  Haymitch swears.  "Why can't you just kill her and keep your mouth shut, boy, like a good tribute?  Is that too much to ask?"

 

Clove doesn't seem to acknowledge the seditious sentiment and instead focuses on Peeta's apology.  "I don't want your pity," she snarls.  "Cato wouldn't want your pity.  You want to know something?   The meat from Eleven didn't kill Cato, I did."  She's shaking and I'm not sure if it's rage, sorrow, or some odd combination of both.

 

I watch the horror at Clove's words spread across Peeta's features.   "But why?" he asks.

 

"Because I loved him!" she shoots back.

 

Peeta is appalled.  "You don't kill someone you love!  That isn't love!" he shouts, punctuating his words with jabs of his spear.  "Love is being willing to die for another.  Being willing to make the ultimate sacrifice so that the one you love can be happy or live.  That's what Rani did!  That's real love!  Love is self-sacrifice.  You didn't have real love, you had something else.  Something false!"

 

That seems to be the final tipping point.  

 

Screaming at him in incoherent rage, Clove charges Peeta, brandishing her short sword.  

 

Peeta knocks her weapon out of the way and manages to graze her hip with his spear.  

 

Clove barely acknowledges the wound.  Instead, she swings her sword at Peeta's head.

 

He blocks her swing with the shaft of his spear, but the force of the blow cracks the wood.   He throws the broken spear away and positions himself in a ready stance that I've seen him take many times before in wrestling matches.  

 

Clove smirks at him, pleased that he's now unarmed.  Then she charges him again.  

 

Peeta waits until she's almost impaled him and steps to one side and reaches out to grab her arm.   Utilizing almost the exact same move that he did at the beginning of the Games, he whirls her around, using her momentum to throw her into the side of the Cornucopia.   Hard.

 

Clove's face slams against the side of the metal horn with a loud clang.    She turns around drunkenly to face Peeta, blood streaming from her nose.   She takes a step toward him, then crumples to the ground.  

 

From off in the distance, a cannon fires.

 

Peeta stands there for a moment, obviously unsure as to what just happened.  

 

"Who is it?"  I ask frantically.  "Who died?"  Please don't be Prim.  Please don't be Prim.

 

Johanna glances down at the screens in front of her.  "Clove.  I've still got a signal from Prim."

 

A wash of relief floods through me before I realize that the Games aren't over.  "Where's the fanfare?  The announcement of the victors?"  I ask next.

 

"Your guess is as good as mine, sweetheart," Haymitch says with a grunt.

 

"You don't think..." I trail off, not willing to believe that Rani was right.  That they're going to rescind their rule change and force Peeta and Prim to fight.  

 

"I don't know what to think," Haymitch snaps.  "Now just simmer down and shut up!"

 

I want to rip into the older man but Finnick stops me.  He shakes his head at me and points to the screen.  

 

Peeta's picked up the fallen short sword and is standing over Clove's body with it.   He jabs it down through the girl's back and into the ground, making sure that the Career is well and truly dead.  Leaving the weapon sticking out of her body, Peeta runs over to where my sister is lying bleeding into the earth.

 

He kneels down and rolls her over carefully.  Prim moans in pain at the motion but seems unconscious.  For a moment, Peeta looks relieved that she's still alive until he catches sight of Prim's injury.    The wound doesn't look good.   I can see the faint outline of intestine sticking out of the hole in her gut and surrounded by a pool of red.  

 

Touching her forehead then her neck, Peeta says softly,  "You've got to hang in a little longer, Prim.   We've done it.  We're the only ones left."

 

My sister doesn't even acknowledge the words.

 

Peeta takes off his jacket and holds it against the wound.   "Just stay with me, Prim.   We'll be going home soon."

 

There's still no fanfare.

 

Pressing against my sister's wound, Peeta looks up at the sky and yells,  "What are you waiting for?  Can't you see that she's dying?"

 

Peeta, along with everyone in Mentor Central, suddenly freezes in shocked realization.   That is exactly what the Gamemakers are waiting for.   If Prim dies, they'll have their one winner:  Peeta.   And they won't be accused of changing the rules either.   The Gamemakers and President Snow don't want two Victors and with Clove's sword thrust earlier they have the means of making sure that they get the one winner they want. 

 

The look on Peeta's face changes from shock to determination and he reaches into one of the pockets of the jacket he's using to staunch Prim's wound and pulls out a small round container.  

  
The nightlock!

 

He opens the container and holds it up so that the cameras can see it.  "I made a promise!   I promised Katniss that I'd make sure Prim would go home."  His voice catches a bit but he soldiers on,  "Rani was right about you!   You aren't going to keep your promise to have two victors!   Well, I won't let you kill Prim!  I won't!  I'll keep my promise even if you won't!"

 

In front of me, Haymitch is holding his head in his hands and muttering to himself.  I don't bother trying to figure out the words, I'm too engrossed in what Peeta's doing.  

 

Pouring a handful of berries into his hand, he stands up and takes a few steps away from where my sister lies bleeding.  "You'd better hurry after I take these.  I don't think Prim's got much time left and you still need a victor."

 

He lifts his hand to his mouth and takes a bite.

 

From overhead, I can hear Claudius Templesmith's voice frantically call out,  "No!  No!  Stop!  Stop!"   Then the most beautiful sound I've ever heard plays.  It's the fanfare.  The one signaling the end of the Games.   Then Claudius speaks again, "I'm pleased to present the winners of the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games:  Peeta Mellark and Primrose Everdeen!  I give you -- the tributes of District Twelve!"

 

As soon as the announcement is made, Peeta spits out the nightlock berries and retrieves a bottle of water to rinse his mouth out.  He's lucky that he didn't swallow any of the juice or else he'd be dead.   Once he finishes that, he runs back to Prim and continues putting pressure on her wound.

 

In Mentor Central, there's a kind of shocked silence. 

 

We've done it.  

 

They've done it.  

 

Peeta and Prim have actually won the Hunger Games. 

 

Haymitch stares at Johanna, Finnick and me in turns, his eyes wide with a kind of guarded happiness.  We're all stunned.   It's the best of all possible outcomes, but I can't help but feel that this is only the start of something much bigger and even more dangerous.   

 

So I'm not surprised to see the elevator doors open and two Peacekeepers step out a few minutes later. 

 

"Mentor Abernathy and Miss Everdeen, if you could accompany us please?" one of the Peacekeepers asks in a pleasant tone.  

 

Haymitch seems as unsurprised as I am at their presence because he just nods and turns to Johanna and Finnick and says, "Tell Effie I'll see her later.  I've gotten detained.  She'll know what to do."

 

Johanna nods.

 

Finnick gives the two waiting Peacekeepers a furtive glance and asks, "Do you want me to start giving the after interviews?"

 

Haymitch nods.   "They'll want to talk to you anyway since you picked the boy to win early on.  Do what you can."

 

"Got it," Finnick says.  "Don't do anything that you'll regret later."

 

"I ain't planning on it," he says with a tight smile.  "The girl's going to be more of the problem."

 

I'm annoyed that they're talking about me like I'm not even there and even more annoyed that Haymitch thinks I'm going to be a problem.

 

I open my mouth to say something when Johanna steps in, "You'd better get going.   You know how he hates to be kept waiting and chickie-poo here looks like she's about to rip you a new one."

 

I'm a bit amused at Johanna's assessment, although I could do without the nickname. 

 

For his part, Haymitch just grunts and gets to his feet.  He holds a hand out to me. "Our escort awaits, sweetheart."

 

I smack his hand away and get to my feet.   I'm annoyed that the motion isn't as graceful as I'd like but I don't need his help.   Glancing at the screen, I'm pleased to see Peeta helping Prim onto a stretcher before getting onto the ladder leading to the hovercraft out of the Arena.   I'm anxious to see my sister, but I know that she's going to be taken to the medical center first.   That's one consistent thing about the Games, all of the previous victors have needed at least a day or two of medical care before they could be introduced to the Capitol.  During that time, the Capitol replays the highlights and interviews the mentors.  

 

I wonder what Haymitch will say and I'm guessing that is part of the reason we're being summoned by President Snow.   Peeta said some pretty damning things.  Things I don't think the Capitol will be pleased with. I'm a little surprised they didn't let him commit suicide. 

 

The Peacekeepers escort us to the basement of the training center and a waiting limousine.  

 

Haymitch immediately flops onto one of the seats and helps himself to one of the brightly colored bottles of liquid.   He takes a pull directly from the bottle and makes a face.   "Damned Capitol and their fancy liquors," he mutters.  "They can't make a decent moonshine to save their lives, always needing to add stupid flavors to the stuff."

 

I shrug my shoulders, not bothering to comment. 

 

Haymitch takes another drink and fixes me with a look.   "You planning on being an idiot like your boy?"  He places a peculiar emphasis on the words 'your boy' that I'm guessing he's trying to tell me something.

 

"I wasn't planning on it," I reply.

 

"Good.  You keep that in mind and we might be able to save them both yet." 

 

I'm confused.  Peeta and Prim both survived the Games, they wouldn't just kill them now.  It'd cause an uproar.    I open my mouth to say something but Haymitch waves me to silence.  He motions at various places in the limousine and then points to his ear.   I nod my head, letting him know I got the message.  The car is bugged.  At least for sound if not cameras.   I need to watch what I say in here.  Knowing that it would be odd for Haymitch and I to have a car ride fully in silence, I ask, "But what did they do wrong?  Peeta promised me he'd make sure my sister came home and he was just fulfilling his promise to me.   He's an honorable boy like that.  Once he gives his word, he means it."

 

Haymitch makes a face and then hides it by taking another drink.   I probably didn't say what Haymitch wanted me to say.  I'm a little annoyed that he didn't give me any clues or a script to follow.   I'm not good at this improvisation stuff.    Haymitch lowers the bottle and looks at me pointedly.  "I know that he's a good boy.   An honorable one.  He's just too impulsive and too quick to jump to the wrong conclusions.  Especially after that girl from Five put the idea in his head."

 

And now I get it, I'm supposed to be playing up Peeta's youth and desperation to make good on his promise to me.   It's not his fault that he jumped to the conclusion that the Gamemakers only wanted one victor because they were late with the fanfare.  What other conclusion should he have drawn in light of Rani's warnings earlier?  The fault lies with the now dead Rani and not with the living Peeta.   Except both Haymitch and I know it doesn't.   Rani wasn't wrong and if she hadn't made it impossible for the Capitol to take back the two victors promise, I'm sure they would have.   Their actions in the last few minutes of the Games showed that.  

 

There isn't time for more oblique conversation filled with undercurrents and innuendos because the limousine pulls up to the presidential mansion.   I'm a little surprised at how fast we've gotten here because from what I remember of Games past, the streets of the Capitol fill with revelers and they're nearly impassable.   I'm guessing that they've had the route cleared, which would take planning and orders from on high.  The realization is something that disturbs me to my core.  Snow's planned for this outcome.  

 

My eyes meet Haymitch's and I see that he's drawn the same conclusions.  He gives me a terse little nod.  We're on. 

 

The Peacekeepers escort us into the mansion and through several richly appointed hallways to a type of room I've never seen before.  It's filled with plants and flowers of all varieties nestled in ornate pots and raised boxes.   There's a few benches in front of the flower boxes and a round table set with three place settings.   Next to the table is a cart with a teapot and a tall multi-tiered tray of snacks.   In one corner sits a young woman dressed in the same color red I've seen other avoxes wearing with a large stringed instrument nestled between her legs.  She's playing something very beautiful and complex and nothing like the music we've got back in Twelve.  

 

From a door hidden behind an arch of white and red roses, President Snow appears, a predatory smile on his bright red reptilian mouth.  "Ah, Katniss!  Haymitch!  It is so good of you to join me for afternoon tea.   Please take a seat, we have much to discuss."  There's a hint of steel in his tone although the words are pleasant enough.  

 

Haymitch sits down while President Snow moves to hold a chair out for me.   I glance at the mentor before sliding into the seat held out for me, all the while trying my hardest not to touch the President of Panem.     

 

President Snow runs his hand over my hair like he would a child or a beloved pet before taking his seat.   He rings a little bell next to his plate and a young girl of about thirteen dressed in avox red comes out and starts pouring tea into the cups in front of the three of us.  I can't help but wonder what a little girl, hardly older than Prim, could have done that would have branded her a traitor.  It's disconcerting.

 

After she's finished, she places the tray of snacks onto the center of the table and wheels the cart away.  

 

Reaching out to take a round snack that looks to be filled with some kind of red jam, Snow says, "Please, help yourself.  I've tried to pick things I know will be good for the baby.  I hope you don't mind herbal tea, Katniss.  I've been told that caffeine isn't good during pregnancy and that it will cause the fetus to keep the mother up all night."

 

I'm even more disturbed that the president seems to be so concerned about the health of my baby.   Still, I know that his concern warrants a response so I say, "Thank you.  I prefer herbal tea anyway."  I reach out and take what looks to be a sandwich with a thin layer of cream and sliced cucumber on it. 

 

"So I gathered," Snow murmurs.   He turns to Haymitch.  "Might I be the first to congratulate you on your unprecedented triumph.  Two victors in the same year.  You must be quite pleased with yourself."   There's a dangerous undertone to Snow's words.

 

Haymitch must have picked up on it since he's positively deferential to Snow.  "Thank you, Mister President.  I really lucked out with my two tributes and I'm just happy they put on a good show."

 

"Indeed, they did.  They performed quite a bit better than the odds makers expected. Why do you think that was?"  he asks while stirring a bit of sugar into his tea.

 

"I'm not really sure what you're asking, sir," Haymitch says.

 

"Oh come now, Mr. Abernathy, don't be coy.   I'm certain you have some idea," Snow chides.

 

"I know your sponsorship gift helped," I say, trying to help Haymitch out.   It's obviously what President Snow is referring to and it's better to just acknowledge the gift and find out what he wants rather than sit here beating around the bush.

 

Haymitch shoots a glare in my direction but manages to keep his annoyance out of his tone when he says, "Yeah, we got lucky with the sponsors this Games.   Lots of people came out to show their support.   I'm sure grateful to them all."

 

Snow smiles.  "See, now, that wasn't so hard.  It is true that my gift helped in some small part, but it was the overflowing of sponsorship money that really set Mr. Mellark and Miss Everdeen apart from their fellow tributes.  I find it interesting that two tributes with such long odds received so much in the way of aid."  He lifts his teacup to his lips and takes a sip.   "I believe it is because of their story."

 

"Their story, sir?"  Haymitch asks.

 

"Indeed.  Their story.   Begun so unwittingly by my dear Miss Everdeen here," he says, motioning to me, "at the Reaping almost three weeks ago and continued through the interviews here in the Capitol.  The story of love, and promises, and sacrifice, and most of all family.   Especially this lovely little baby Miss Everdeen is carrying."  Snow reaches over and rubs a hand on my protruding stomach.  "Yes, if it weren't for this little girl right here I don't think darling Primrose or dashing Peeta would have done nearly as well."  He removes his hand and sits back in his chair.  

 

Crossing my arms over my stomach, I struggle not to shiver and instead ask, "What do you want me to do?"

 

He smiles at me.  "Nothing more than you're willing to do.  Don't worry."

 

That doesn't comfort me in the least.  

 

Turning to Haymitch he says,    "Of course, I will admit I have been most interested in their progress.  Particularly that of young Primrose Everdeen.  She's now the youngest victor ever, knocking young Mr. Odair off of that historic pedestal.  I imagine she'll be most popular among many people here in the Capitol."

 

Haymitch blanches and it takes me a moment to figure out why.  When I do, I feel the sandwich that I've just eaten threatening to make a reappearance.  He's referring to whoring my baby sister out.   It's such a disgusting thing to think about and I wonder why he's bringing that up and not Peeta's seditious words.  

 

The President continues as if he didn't notice Haymitch's and my reactions,  "Now, you needn't worry.  I have no intention of putting young Miss Everdeen on the market, yet.   No, I believe that our dear Euphemia Trinket has the right idea for young Miss Everdeen.   She would make a lovely companion to the right sort of family."

 

I'm relieved to hear that Prim won't be forced into sexual slavery but I'm leery about just what he has planned for her.   "What do you mean 'the right sort of family?'" I ask.  

 

Snow bares his teeth into something that is supposed to resemble a smile but doesn't reach his eyes.   "I do hope you'll forgive me, but Undersectretary Antonius Horn and his family were not a good choice for our darling Primrose."

 

The name sounds familiar and I'm reminded of the kind couple I met and chatted with at the reception following my interview with Caesar.  I remember Effie mentioning they were well connected and that Antonius was considering running for president.   I'm unable to keep myself from asking, "Why not?"

 

If anything, Snow's expression becomes even more feral.   "Because, I'm afraid, Undersecretary Horn and his wife have been executed for treason."  He drains his teacup and rings the bell summoning the avox girl to refill his cup.

 

As she rolls the cart into view, I get a good look at her.   If I didn't have the mental images of Antonius and Scribonia in my head from learning of their fate, I would have never made the connection.  But now that I do, I can see that the girl has her father's eyes and nose but her mother's hair and chin.   There's no mistaking it, the girl that my sister was supposed to be the companion for is the same avox servant pouring the President's tea.    I'm shocked that they've punished a little girl for her parents' crimes but it seems doubly cruel to force her to serve the man who ordered her parents' deaths.  I'm also surprised with just how fast everything happened.   It's been less than a week since I first met the Horns.  They must have been under surveillance even then.  

 

Snow follows my glance and says, "I see you've noticed Antonia here.   It's a shame really, but I had no choice.  One cannot let a cancer fester, it is best to root it out and if that means that some healthy tissue is sacrificed, so be it.   It is for the good of the whole that I do this.  I'm told the procedure is most humane and very quick.  It didn't used to be that way, you know." 

 

Tearing my eyes away from the avox girl, I ask, "So what do you have planned for Prim?"

 

Snow turns to Haymitch.  "See, this is what I like about Katniss here.  She's so refreshingly direct.   No beating around the bush, no lies or misdirections, just simple honesty.  You would do well to follow that yourself." 

 

Haymitch grunts but doesn't say anything. Instead, he helps himself to another sandwich.

 

Then, Snow turns to me and smiles, taking a sip of his tea.   "I have decided that my granddaughter, Hippolyta, is in need of a companion.   She's the same age as your sister, although I believe she may be a few months younger.   I have noticed that she is finding it quite difficult to make friends.  Real friends.   Most of the children who associate with her are doing so at the direction of their parents, who want something from me.  Things I am not inclined to give."  His voice hardens at the last bit, then it goes back to his normal pleasant tone.  "I think your sister would make a wonderful companion for my Lyta."  He leans closer to me.  "Lyta is already quite taken with the idea.   She even sent her birthday money as a sponsorship gift at the end.   I know five thousand isn't a lot in the Games, but it is to a twelve year old no matter their pedigree."

 

That explains where the last minute sponsorship money came from.  "What would being your granddaughter's companion mean for Prim?"

 

The President seems to be expecting that question because Snow says, "Oh, the position wouldn't start immediately.   I'm certain that Primrose will want to be present for when the baby is born and then there's the Victory Tour."  He takes another sip of tea.  "Frankly, it'd be a hassle to have her start until after the Tour.  But once the Tour's over, now that's an idea."  He smiles at me.   "Now to answer your question more fully.  Primrose would attend school with my granddaughter, although she'll likely need tutoring to get up to Lyta's grade level.  And of course she'd live here in the Capitol while she's doing that, I'm certain that there's room for her here.  But mostly, she would be a friend and companion to my Lyta."

 

"What about her house?" Haymitch asks.

 

The president turns to him.  "If you mean her house in the Victor's Village, that naturally will still belong to her.  So long as she is amenable to it, I'm certain her family can live there while she is here in the Capitol."  He regards Haymitch with a small smile on his red lips.  "It's good of you to be concerned about your littlest tribute, Haymitch.  And here I was beginning to wonder if you'd written her off like so many of your past tributes."

 

Haymitch makes a face but just nods, acknowledging the president's words.  "What about the boy?" he asks.

 

Taking a sip of tea, the President's face becomes serious.  "Ah, what to do about young Mr. Mellark?  That is the question, isn't it."  He takes another sip.

 

To my surprise, Haymitch takes the initiative.  "Don't go punishing him for being a mite desperate.  You have to admit the delay with the announcement didn't look good for him or for the little girl.  She's hurt pretty bad.   And you know how lovesick boys get."  Haymitch sounds like he's a bit desperate for Snow to not think too much of Peeta's words at the end.

 

"Indeed, I was not happy with the delayed announcement myself."  Snow's frowns and his eyes harden for a moment, before slipping back into the pleasant mask he's been hiding behind for this whole meeting.  "I had given no such order that the rule change was to be amended.  I am told that Mr. Templesmith got caught with his pants down, quite literally.   I am most sorry for the confusion it caused, but it doesn't negate that young Mr. Mellark directly challenged the Capitol's authority with those berries he got from that girl from Five."

 

"And we've already talked about that, sir,"  Haymitch says.  "I had no idea that she'd do what she did or that she'd give him those berries."

 

"Yes," Snow agrees, wrinkling his nose at the memory. "You and Miss Trinket made that very clear during our earlier discussion.  You are most lucky that Quark, Kinet, and Dyna all agreed with your story and assessment of the situation.   Unfortunately Kinet and Dyna ate something while they were in custody that did not agree with them, so young Quark will be the lone mentor for District Five next year.  Such a tragedy.  And one so easily avoided." His tone almost manages to sound regretful.  Almost.  

 

Haymitch catches the insincerity and his lips tighten.   I'm guessing Kinet and Dyna were friends of his and knowing that they were killed for their tribute's actions doesn't help.   But he doesn't say anything.  Probably because he doesn't want to rise to Snow's bait.

 

The President turns back to me.  "You'll find, Miss Everdeen, that I prefer to avoid tragedies.   It makes things so much simpler.   Which brings us to Peeta.  Eliminating him at this time would be a tragedy."

 

Across from me, I hear Haymitch let out a relieved breath.

 

"Indeed, the Capitol has become most entranced with the love story he's spun," Snow continues.  "One which you've helped to build, Miss Everdeen.  So eliminating him now will only make the public, which is so enamored of you both, upset.  No, I do not want any more dead martyrs.  So something else must be done."

 

There's something about the way he says 'something else' that makes a knot of dread start to form in my stomach.

 

Snow's next words make the knot grow.  "That's where you come in, Miss Everdeen."

 

"Me? What do you want me to do?"  I can't stop myself from asking the question even though I regret the words as soon as they're out of my mouth.

 

"Why, what you said you'd do in order to get your sister back alive." He pauses for drama.  "Anything."

 

Haymitch steps in.  "That's a mighty vague order for the girl.   Mind giving us a hint what you want her to really do?"

 

"So practical," Snow murmurs.  "Very well.  How's this for a little less vague? Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials."

 

He can't be saying what I think he's saying.

 

"You want to repeat that?" Haymitch asks, as shocked as I am.

 

"Did I stutter?" He gives Haymitch a stern glance before turning back to me.  "I've decided that the best way to keep our dear young Mr. Mellark out of trouble is to give him what he wants and that seems to be you, Miss Everdeen.   Yes, I think being a new husband and father will keep him in line.  And if he starts to step out of line I expect you, Miss Everdeen, to rein him in as a good wife is supposed to do."  

 

I don't know what to say and my shock must show on my face.

 

Snow takes in my expression with those pale eyes of his and says, "I understand that this is a bit sudden, Miss Everdeen, but really we wouldn't want your baby to be a bastard, now would we?  And unless the real father steps up, I don't see any other alternatives."

 

There's something in his phrasing that makes me look up and I realize that he doesn't know who the father of my child is.   Somehow, some way, he hasn't found out about Gale.  I don't know how he doesn't know, but I'm grateful for that small favor.

 

I hazard a glance over at Haymitch and I can see that he's trying to school his face into an expression of boredom but I can see the anxiousness in his eyes.  He knows something, unfortunately I don't know what that is.   I raise my eyebrow at him and he shakes his head at me. 

 

I'm on my own.

 

I don't know if I should agree to Snow's plan or not.  But I think that I don't really have a choice.  Not if I want to keep Prim safe.    I turn back to meet Snow's gaze.  It's reptilian and disconcerting but I steel myself and say, "We've agreed there are to be no lies between us, right?"

 

"That is correct, Miss Everdeen," he concedes with a small nod.

 

I take a deep breath.  "If you promise to keep Prim and the rest of my family safe, I'll do it."

 

Snow seems to consider that for a moment.  "Agreed," he says.   "Congratulations, Miss Everdeen.   I hope you don't mind a little presumptuousness on my part but I'd like to be the one to give you away at your wedding in say two weeks time.  That should give you and your stylist plenty of time to prepare."

 

I don't trust myself to speak so I just nod, wondering why when I meet Haymitch's eyes he looks so scared. 

 

Just what have I gotten myself into?

**oOo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written: 1/23/14  
> Revised: 1/26/14  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> The Games are over, finally, and the Endgame is now afoot. 
> 
> About the avox girl, Antonia, I imagine that the procedure for making an avox has been pretty much perfected and is pretty quick. Especially if you take into consideration that Peeta getsa full leg amputation and is pretty much fitted for a prosthetic in less than a week's time in canon. Medicine is pretty advanced so as long as they didn't want to torture the subject being turned into an avox, such as in the case of a traitor's child, the procedure is pretty quick and recovered from quickly. 
> 
> I am super excited to be getting to this point in my story because you're starting to see several of the things that I've hinted at earlier and in my other story of Forgotten starting to come to fruition. 
> 
> On that note, Spectator is starting to come to a close. Only a few more chapters left. I hope you've all enjoyed the ride. 
> 
> Up Next: It's recap time!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	33. Chapter 33

**oOo**

 

 

**Chapter Thirty Three**

 

The next two days pass in a blur.   All of a sudden, I'm preparing for a wedding and getting fitted for a wedding dress. The whole thing strikes me as absurd considering that the groom hasn't even proposed yet.   Knowing Snow, Peeta's probably not even aware of the 'reward' he's getting.   It just seems a bit ridiculous.  

 

The day after the Games ended, the Mellarks were sent back to Twelve, leaving just my mother, Haymitch, Effie, Cinna, Portia, and me in the apartment.   Mrs. Mellark protested, as usual, but I understand why they were sent away.   They might say the wrong thing and ruin Snow's plans. Snow won't risk it. They likely won't even be allowed back for the wedding. It all depends on how good of a performance Peeta and I put on leading up to the ceremony and how much the Mellarks believe the lies we're going to be spinning. Mr. Mellark and Bing likely won't be a problem but Mrs. Mellark and Farl are another story.

 

On the morning of the third day after the Games end, I'm awakened by Effie ordering two avoxes to pack up my things. "Come on, come on. Chop chop! It's a big big big day and we don't want to ruin the surprise."

 

I roll over and blink up at the escort sleepily. "What surprise?"

 

"Why, Peeta and Prim's surprise, of course!" She says in such a way that makes it sound like she feels the reason should be clear.

 

It isn't. And I say so.

 

Effie sighs dramatically and plops herself down on the bed next to me.   "Why it just wouldn't be fair to all of the wonderful and generous people who sponsored Peeta and Prim if they got to have their reunion in private. Why it'd be downright rude! That's why President Snow in his infinite wisdom has decided that you'll see Peeta and Prim on the night of the recap." She reaches out and pats my comforter covered leg. "He's even said that you can watch the recap with them. Isn't that nice?" Her words are light and her tone is close to the bubbly airhead that I used to think Effie was before I came to the Capitol and realized that there's more depth to her, but there's something off. A little tenseness and I wonder what that is.

 

I don't ask, though. There's something about the way she's sitting that tells me that the walls have ears and are listening.   Instead, I say, "That's very thoughtful of President Snow. Thinking of the sponsors like that. I just wish I could be a little selfish and have Peeta and Prim all to myself. I've missed them so much."

 

The escort gives me an approving nod. I've apparently said the right thing. "I understand, Katniss, dear. But President Snow knows best." She stands up and offers me a hand to help me get up.

 

I take it, even though I don't want to need to. I've gotten unwieldy enough that her help isn't unwarranted even if it is unwanted. "So where are Mom and I moving to?" I ask when I've gotten to my feet.

 

"Oh, it's just you Katniss. Your mother can stay here. In fact, I think that would be a good idea."

 

I give her a sharp look. "Why?"

 

Effie sighs again. "Darling Primrose is not recovering as quickly as the doctors hoped. The girl from Two's knife perforated her stomach and large intestine."

 

I blanch. "Is she going to make it?" I'm not sure I could deal with Prim surviving the Games only to die in the aftermath.

 

"They think so," Effie says, all trace of her empty-headed lightness gone. "It was a close thing. A very close thing. The doctors think that having your mother with Prim while she's still in the Medical Center will help keep her spirits up and her speed recovery."

 

I nod. "But won't that ruin the surprise?"

 

Effie shakes her head. "No, Prim's going to be kept in the Medical Center until the day before the recap. Your mother will likely spend most of her time there, only coming back to the apartment to sleep.   I'll be coordinating with Cinna, Haymitch, and Portia to make sure that she doesn't encounter Peeta and spoil the surprise."

 

Suddenly, the Snow's plan is clear, they want to trip Peeta up into making a mistake because he's the dangerous tribute, not Prim. "So it's just Peeta that they want to surprise."

 

It isn't a question, but Effie answers it anyway, "Yes. Your love story is the most talked about thing in the Capitol right now." She pauses and looks around to see if anyone is listening but the two avoxes left a little bit ago with their arms full of clothes, so thankfully we're alone. Effie comes to the same conclusion that we're alone and says in a whisper. "And some of the talk is very dangerous." She then plasters what I know is a fake smile on her face and says, "Now, let's get you dressed. We wouldn't want to keep Finnick waiting!"

 

I'm a little surprised that I'm not staying with Cecelia and I say so.

 

"Cici left for Eight yesterday," Effie explains. "Most of the mentors have left already. Only those with more permanent engagements or who are popular with the Capitol citizens stay longer."

 

While she's talking, I go to the dresser and pull out a pair of grey pants and a loose short sleeved shirt that's almost tunic-like with a subtle swirl pattern in a color that reminds me of a summer storm cloud. I pull on the pants under my nightgown and Effie turns around mid-word to give me a little privacy. I'm grateful.   "I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye. I liked her."

 

"Oh I'm sure you'll see her again soon," Effie tells me, her back still turned. "On the Victory Tour if not sooner."

 

It sounds almost ominous.   "I didn't know I was going on the Victory Tour." I don't point out that only victors, mentors, and escorts go, and I'm none but my confusion is evident.  

 

"It's another idea of President Snow's!" Effie explains in that forced voice I've come to associate with bad news. "He thinks the districts need to see just how generous the Capitol can be!   It's really a wonderful plan, with both darling Prim and dashing Peeta winning this year and you the center of them both. I'm sure everyone will want to see you and hear just how grateful you are that both of them made it home."

 

I finish dressing with a grimace on my face. I'm not sure why Snow is sending me along, but it doesn't bode well.   "I'm done," I say and Effie turns around. "What about the baby? She'll be still nursing."

 

Effie wrinkles her nose in disgust. "I'm sure arrangements can be made for her to accompany you.   But nursing?   That's really far too gauche, Katniss. Why you'd be exposing yourself to the world!"

 

I give Effie a look. "How else is she supposed to be fed?" I ask harshly. Babies who are weaned too early often die in the Seam.   Even merchants breastfeed.

 

"Why a bottle of course! I'm sure that you can get formula for the baby out in Twelve."

 

I shake my head. "What's formula?"

 

The escort stares at me incredulously. "You don't know what formula is? What do they do when a woman can't breastfeed or if the mother dies?"

 

"Most of the time, the baby dies too. Sometimes another nursing mother can feed the baby, but most of the time it isn't an option," I say, my voice a careful monotone. I don't go into just how often that is or that sometimes desperate families try other ways, like goat milk or meat broth, to feed the infants but that those methods rarely work and the baby dies slowly of starvation. It's one of the realities of living in the Seam and it's one of my biggest fears.  

 

"That's awful!" Effie exclaims, horrified. She shakes her head. "That's just horrible. I can't believe that something so terrible happens in this day and age."

 

"Well, it happens," I say, not wanting to talk about it anymore. I head to the elevators without waiting to see if Effie follows.

 

She does.   From the expression on her face, she's digesting what I've said and doesn't like the picture it paints.   Life isn't easy out in the districts and things that the Capitol takes for granted are impossibilities for places like Twelve.   I'm not looking forward to breastfeeding. Many of my mother's clients are women and I've heard of some of the things they've asked for, it's pretty disgusting.

 

The doors to the elevator open and the two avoxes step out. Effie directs them to finish packing up my room while I wait for her. When she's done, she presses the button for the fourth floor and then takes a step back. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I didn't know." Her voice is soft and nothing like the Effie I've encountered.

 

I stroke my stomach absently. "I know you didn't.   But things are different out in the districts."

 

She makes a face but doesn't say anything.  

 

We arrive at the fourth floor to find Finnick, Haymitch and Beetee waiting for us.

 

Haymitch looks at Effie, then at me and says, "Finally, I thought I was going to have to send someone after you two. You were supposed to bring her down here ten minutes ago."

 

Effie shrugs. "I got her as quickly as I could without arousing suspicion."

 

"Wait. What's going on here?" I ask, looking at all four of the others in turn.  

 

"What do you think this is, sweetheart? It's a planning meeting, since you've managed to screw yourself over royally with your deal with Snow. It's abundantly clear you need some education in staying alive and not pissing people off."

 

"Because you've done such a good job at that!" I snap.

 

He smiles at me and gives me a little mocking salute. "I'm still here, sweetheart."

 

Beetee steps in before I can think of a retort, "Might I suggest we take this outside? The force field will disrupt the cameras and I've taken care of the sound for now. But it won't last."

 

"Allow me to lead the way," Finnick says, stepping forward and taking my arm.

 

I glare up at him, but don't make too much of a fuss.   At least not where Capitol spies can hear.  

 

The balcony doesn't have the same view as the one in Twelve's apartments and I can see into the windows of several surrounding buildings.   But the view is strangely rippled, like looking through a pool of water.

 

"Ahhh, I see she's noticed it. Good, good," Beetee's voice comes from beside me.

 

"What is that?" I ask, extending my hand toward the rippling air.

 

"The force field, it's stronger now that they don't have to surround each floor of the building," Beetee explains, "They leave it on even after the Games are over since Doria Fitzgerald from Six fell to her death during the Fifty First Games during a bad morphling high."

 

Haymitch makes a face and says, "You know that's only the official reason. Most say she killed herself after her last tribute died. Couldn't take anymore death, not that I can blame her mind you. After surviving the Third Games and having to mentor for forty eight years with no winners to show for it, it'd be enough to make me consider throwing in the towel."

 

Considering that until Prim and Peeta, Haymitch has been the only victor from Twelve in the last twenty four years, I can understand his point of view.

 

Beetee inclines his head once. "You make your point." He looks around to the rest of us. "Shall we get started?"

 

Haymitch grunts, "Yeah," and fishes a flask out of his jacket pocket and takes a drink.

 

The mentor from Three fiddles with a small device in his hands and then tosses it off of the balcony. It hits the force field and instead of bouncing back, it shatters into several tiny particles.  

 

"There, the interference from the particulates powered by the force field should cause enough static on any nearby recording devices to make the data incomprehensible." He licks a finger and holds it up in the air.   "We should have maybe thirty minutes of complete interference and possibly an additional thirty of partial interference."

 

"It'll have to do," Effie says. "Thank you, Beetee." She turns to me next. "Now Katniss, you've been doing a good job up until now but Snow has his eye on you and worse he expects you to keep Peeta under control."

 

I stare at them in confusion. "I'm not sure what he means by that, I mean, what kind of trouble can he get in out in Twelve? It's not like he's Haymitch here who's a drunken mess or a Capitol favorite. He's an ordinary sixteen year old boy."

 

"Katniss," Finnick says sadly, "Peeta stopped being ordinary the moment he lifted your little sister onto his shoulders.   That's when he captured the Capitol's attention and he's not going to escape their eye that easily. I didn't."

 

"But what has that got to do with me?" I ask, my eyes darting amongst the four of them.

 

"You're the center of all of this and right now Snow's got you right where he wants you," Finnick answers. "If you step one foot out of line, he's going to know and you can bet he'll make sure you'll suffer."

 

"But he promised that he wouldn't hurt Prim or my family!"

 

Haymitch snorts. "And you believe him?"

 

"Well no, not exactly," I mutter.

 

"That's something, at least.   Even if he does keep his word, which I don't think he will, you know he's got ways of making you hurt that have nothing to do with Prim or that mother of yours."

 

It hits me. I only bartered for my family's protection, but Gale and the Hawthornes aren't family. At least not technically. "Gale. You mean Gale, don't you?"

 

Haymitch nods. "That's one way. Right now Snow doesn't know who's the father of that baby of yours, thanks to Beetee and Wiress hacking the tribute identity system."

 

I turn to look at the mentor from Three. "Thank you."

 

The old man waves off my thanks. "It was simple.   There already was a backdoor built into the system, Wiress and I just needed to exploit it. But it won't make a bit of difference if your young man goes to work in the mines."

 

He doesn't need to explain why. All miners in Twelve have to submit a genetic sample for identification purposes. It was the only way they were able to confirm that my father and Gale's were killed in that mine explosion five years ago, there wasn't enough of them left to physically identify the body, let alone bury. "But how else is he supposed to make money? His family is barely able to survive with his tesserae ration and what Hazelle can make taking in washing. Now that he's no longer eligible for the Games, he doesn't get tesserae anymore."

 

"Now don't you worry your pretty little head over it," Haymitch tells me. "I've taken care of it. Spoke to an old friend of mine and he's promised to take the boy on as an apprentice."

 

I narrow my eyes. "Who?"

 

"The Mayor," he tells me, taking another drink from his flask. "His wife owed me a debt from a while back. It was time to settle up."

 

I'm not sure what kind of debt Maribelle Undersee could have owed Haymitch but it had to be fairly large in order for the Mayor to take on Gale as an apprentice.   Positions like that normally go to merchants and not kids fresh out of their final Reaping.   "Thank you," I say to Haymitch.

 

"So since that's taken care of, we've got a lot to cover and not a lot of time to do it," Effie says, turning on her renowned escort efficiency. "Let's get to it!"

 

For the next half an hour, the four try to fill me in on all of the pitfalls I'm going to need to avoid and steer Peeta and Prim through.   I'm going to need to play up the love story at every turn to make Peeta's actions seem like those of a lovesick boy and not a revolutionary with nothing to lose. I'm going to need to steer all blame about the nightlock berries toward Rani and the delay in announcing the winners.

 

That's when I find out that Claudius Templesmith has been arrested for his part in the delayed announcement.   The woman he was with, Cressida Walters, has managed to disappear and there's now a price on her head.  

 

I'm not sure how I feel about this news.   Part of me wants them both to suffer, especially considering Prim's condition, but another part thinks that this is overkill.   If Claudius Templesmith, who is a well known and respected Capitol citizen, can be arrested for having horrible timing, then just what will Snow do to me if I make a similar mistake?

 

It's a scary thought.

 

Beetee speaks up, "With Templesmith gone, they're going to need someone else for Caesar to play off and make all of the in game announcements. Any ideas who they're going to pick?"

 

"Me," Effie says quietly.  

 

Haymitch's head whips around so he can stare at the woman. "Don't tell me you're going to accept?" There's something in his voice that isn't shock, but I can't identify what it is.

 

"What choice have I?" Effie huffs. "Seneca claims it's because I'm so well known and because Snow wants to reward me."

 

"You ain't buying that crap, are you?" Haymitch shouts, waving his hands around wildly.

 

"Of course I'm not! What kind of idiot do you think I am?" Her whole body is shaking; I don't know if it's from anger or something else. "If Snow wanted to reward me, he'd send me to another district or provide me with better housing or pay, not make me one of the most recognized people in all of Panem." She pauses and taps her bright pink lips absently. "No, he's planning something."

 

Finnick snorts. "That goes without saying. The question is what."

 

"That is the question," Beetee agrees, taking off his glasses and polishing them with his shirt.

 

Haymitch looks at Effie, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He seems to want to say something, but even with the Capitol listening devices disabled he can't seem to spit it out.   Finally he takes a long pull from his flask and asks, "When do you start?" His voice is hoarse.  

 

Effie gives us a little smile. "Not until after the Victory Tour."

 

Haymitch nods. "So there's still time."

 

"Yes," she agrees, but doesn't elaborate on what there is still time for.   "But look on the bright side! You won't need to put up with my early morning wake up calls." She puts on a falsely bright smile. "It really is very generous of President Snow to do this. Normally you'd need to be one of his inner circle to get a cushy job like that."

 

"We both know you ain't that, princess."

 

"My mother is." She shrugs. "Mother probably was owed a favor from President Snow and she cashed it in. There isn't much glory for the heir of Trinket Industries in being an escort to the least successful district in Panem." She gives both Haymitch and me apologetic looks.  

 

Haymitch snorts. "Then the joke's on her. Five's got that illustrious distinction now."

 

It's a bad joke, because Five only has one victor now, the young Quark. I wonder if the other mentors will help him out like they did Haymitch.

 

"So what kinds of duties will you have?" Beetee wants to know.

 

"I don't really know," Effie answers. "Claudius was both a Gamemaker and public face of the Games. I'm not sure I'm going to be the same."

 

Finnick reaches out and takes Effie's hands. "Let us know, okay?" His voice is deeper than normal, almost seductive.  

 

Effie pulls her hands away and swats Finnick on the arm. "Stop that! You know I'm not going to fall for your old tricks."

 

Finnick shrugs and in his normal tone of voice says, "I had to give it a try."

 

"And it was a very nice try," she says soothingly. "Now is there anything else we need to discuss?"

 

"When are they going to hold the recap?" I want to know.   Most of the time, it's held a few days to a week after the Games. The longest they've waited to hold the Victor Ceremony that I can recall was eight days following the Sixty Eighth Games.   The victor, Alexandros Burton from Two, had taken several knife wounds to the gut while he was choking his opponent, a beautiful girl from One, to death.   His recovery at the end of the Games was one of the few where a med team had to carry him into the hovercraft. Like my sister.

 

I'm unsurprised when it's Effie who answers, "In two days. Primrose should be recovered enough to sit through the ceremony. But the sooner we have the ceremony, the better."

 

She doesn't need to explain why. In eleven days, I'm going to get married to Peeta. And as far as I know, no one's told the groom.

 

"Has anyone told him?" I ask.

 

The four share a look.   "There hasn't been a good time, sweetheart," Haymitch tells me gently. "He's got the eyes of Panem on him, if you catch my meaning."

 

I do. Snow's got Peeta under surveillance, probably to find out if his words and actions were those of a revolutionary or a lovesick boy. Snow thinks it's the former. Haymitch is saying it's the latter. I think it's probably a little of both and that's what scares me.

 

"Someone's got to tell him!" I insist. He can't make a mistake and jeopardize my sister and my family if he says the wrong thing at the wrong time.

 

"And just how are we supposed to do that, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks, his voice tired. "I'm sure Snow's just itching to see your love story revealed for the lie we both know it is. That way he can off the lot of us."

 

"But-"

 

"I hate to cut this short, but I'm afraid I must," Beetee interrupts my protest. "The interference is about to run out and I suggest that any conversation of an inflammatory nature be truncated."

 

Effie nods. "The avoxes should be finished moving Katniss's things to Mags's quarters."

 

"Is she still here?" I ask Finnick hopefully. I like the old woman, she's sharp and funny even if I can't understand what she's saying.  

 

Finnick shakes his head. "Sorry. She left with Annie the day after the Games. It's just me and Tristan left in the Capitol. You'll meet him later."

 

I nod, guessing that Tristan is one of the other Four victors. I'm disappointed that Annie and Mags aren't around anymore but there's nothing I can do about it.  

 

"Well, if we're done here I should finish seeing if everything is ready for Peeta to come back to the Training Center." Effie turns to look at Haymitch. "And you should head over to the Medical Center and escort your victor back to his quarters. I'm sure he's got lots of questions and you should try to answer them."

 

Haymitch smiles. "That's our Effie, efficient as always."

 

The escort returns his smile. "You wouldn't know what to do without me," she teases. Then her smile freezes and falls away as the impact of her words sinks in. She looks like she's about to say something.

 

Haymitch stops her, placing a hand on her arm. "I guess we'll find out next year, won't we, princess?"   And to my surprise, he doesn't sound happy about it.

 

**oOo**

 

The two days leading up to the Victor Ceremony pass in a blur of fittings, preparations, and doctors appointments.

 

I finally meet Tristan, the other remaining victor from Four, when he escorts me to one of my doctors appointments. He's a wiry man in his mid-thirties with shoulder length reddish brown hair and grey-green eyes. Other than a similar bronzed skin tone, he's nothing like Finnick. Where Finnick is achingly beautiful, Tristan is decidedly average looking. He's not the kind of victor I'd think would be popular in the Capitol like Finnick, Enobaria, Cashmere and Gloss are.   An impression that solidifies, on the trip there.

 

He's quiet the whole route, letting me get some much needed time to think and rest.   I appreciate his kindness, even if the Capitol wouldn't. They like their victors flamboyant and effusive.   He doesn't accompany me into my appointment, which I appreciate, but stays in the limo waiting for me to return.  

 

The trip back is nearly as silent as the trip there, with the only words spoken being polite greetings.   It's a welcome change from everyone wanting to talk to me.   Still, I wonder why he's still in the Capitol when most of the rest of the victors have left.

 

I get my answer at dinner the night before the Victor Ceremony and recap.

 

"Why doesn't Tristan ever eat here?" I ask, spooning a dish of chicken and vegetables in a bright yellow sauce over some rice.  

 

"He's with his patrons," Finnick answers. It's just the two of us at dinner but there's still as much food as when the Mellarks and everyone else were here.

 

"Patrons?" I take a bite of my food and find it has a slightly sweet creamy flavor with a hint of spice. It's good, but nothing like the flavors I'm used to.

 

"Fisheries Minister Pontius Pike and his wife, Gussie.   Pontius was one of his biggest sponsors in his Games and made arrangements to have Tristan's exclusive contract immediately after." Finnick takes a bite of his food before adding, "That was eighteen years ago."

 

I try to figure out what Minister Pike would want with Tristan but fail to come up with anything and say so.

 

Finnick gives me a look that speaks volumes. "Not everyone is interested in the opposite sex, Katniss."

 

"Oh," I say, subdued. "But you mentioned a wife."

 

"For political reasons only," he explains. "There are two children, an eight year old boy and a five year girl. Both of them are likely Tristan's."

 

"How would you know?"

 

The victor from Four takes a bite of his food and smiles at me. It isn't his usual bright smile that melts the hearts of Capitol citizens everywhere. It's crueler. "I have my sources. That and Pontius has bragged on many occasions that he wouldn't touch a woman with a ten foot pole. Last I checked, Gussie was definitely all woman."

 

He doesn't need to say more, the implication is clear the source of his information is likely Gussie Pike herself. My thoughts bring me back to Tristan and the fact that he's got two children here in the Capitol that he can only see once a year and I feel sorry for the quiet, unimposing man.

 

A feeling that is compounded when Finnick adds, "You need to keep the kids' parentage to yourself. Tristan's wife doesn't know about it and you'll be meeting her on the Victory Tour."

 

"He's married?" I don't know why, but I'm surprised. Probably because other than Cecelia, all of the victors I've met either aren't married or, in the case of Mags and Easter, widowed.

 

"A lot of the older victors are," Finnick explains. "Those of us on the circuit still tend to stay single. It's safer that way."

 

He doesn't explain what he means by that and I don't ask.

 

Pushing around the food on my plate, I find myself thinking about the following day.   The Victor Ceremony is going to be at broadcast live tomorrow afternoon and will be mandatory viewing. Every eye in the nation will be on Peeta, Prim and me.  

 

"Don't worry about it, Katniss, you'll do fine."

 

I hope he's right.

 

**oOo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written: 5/18/14  
> Revised: 7/6/14  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> So, sorry about the delay. I tend to be more busy in the springtime and for some reason getting this chapter written was like pulling teeth sans anesthetic. 
> 
> The next chapter is written, actually it was split off of this one because of length. Seriously, the unsplit chapter was over 11,000 words long before I sent it off to Rosefyre to beta. And unlike my last super long chapter, it had a natural split point. I don't like chapters over 5,000 words for the most part because it's harder to read in one sitting. 
> 
> A note on the food, most of the time, the food I describe is something that I myself actually make. This time it's a coconut curry dish that is one of my signature dishes and is requested regularly by my friends who visit. The same is true of the salad I've described a few times. I tend to default to dishes I know how to prepare because I know the tastes and can describe it easier. 
> 
> This chapter isn't as action filled as some of them, but it is important and it answers a few questions from the previous chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented, left kudos, or bookmarked this fic!
> 
> Up Next: It's recap time! No Really. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	34. Chapter 34

**oOo**

 

**Chapter Thirty Four**

 

The day of the Victor Ceremony finally arrives.

 

The broadcast of the ceremony and recap will take place at noon with a special party for Peeta and Prim's sponsors to take place afterwards in the large dining room where all of the victor portraits hang.  Then it's on to the presidential mansion and the victory banquet.

 

Cinna sends one of Prim's prep team, Octavia, down to help me get ready.   She does my hair in a simple style that's reminiscent of the one I wore on the day of the Reaping. My makeup is simple with only a little eyeliner and lip gloss.   It's very different from what I expected and I say so.  

 

Octavia beams at me. "It's Cinna's idea! He thought that you might ruin a more elaborate style if you know what I mean," she chirps, wiggling her green eyebrows at me.  

 

I blush. "That's really thoughtful of Cinna to think of that. I'm glad I'm not going to ruin all of your hard work with crying or," I struggle for the right words, "other things," I finish lamely.  

 

She pats my hand. "You remind me of your sister. She was always so thoughtful of our hard work, too."

 

I nod my head, not trusting myself to not say something stupid.  

 

Octavia makes the finishing touches on my hair then pulls out the dress I'm going to be wearing. It's beautiful, but that's to be expected with Cinna's work. The gown is floor length with an asymmetrical bodice flowing up into a single shoulder strap. It's in varying shades of orange and grey with stylized mockingjays flying up from what looks like the flames along the hem.   Clipped to the shoulder of the dress is a similar broach to the one I got from Madge, but with a backing of some kind of fiery orange gem.  

 

I reach out and touch the pin.

 

"Do you like it?" Octavia asks. "Seneca Crane had it made special when he heard Cinna talking about this dress."

 

"It's beautiful," I say, confused why the Head Gamemaker would be making me jewelry. "What kind of stone is it?" I ask.

 

"They call it a fire opal. They're mined in One but they aren't as popular as other gems," the woman tells me. Then she turns and smiles at me. "But after they see you in this tonight, I bet they will be!"

 

I nod and run my fingers over the gold broach. "I'm not sure if I should wear it."

 

"Why ever not?"

 

I didn't mean to say that aloud but I cover with, "I don't want to show up my sister."

 

Octavia snorts. "Don't you worry about that! Why Seneca seemed to know that it'd be a problem and he had a necklace with a pendant just like that made for your sister.   You'll all be mockingjays tonight!"

 

For some reason that sounds ominous.  

 

The green skinned woman helps me into the gown and makes sure that the soft fabric flows over my belly the way it should.   Then she helps me into a pair of simple grey flats.  

 

When I'm ready, I walk out into the main room to find Finnick standing there.

 

"I thought Haymitch or Effie would be here," I say.

 

"Sorry to disappoint, Katniss, but you have to put up with little old me."

 

"I'm not sure I'm going to be able to stand it," I say drily.

 

He holds his hands to his heart. "I'm crushed. Absolutely crushed. I fear I'll never recover."

 

"Knock it off," I tell him. "Where are Haymitch and Effie?"

 

The playful smile fades and he looks at me seriously. "They're with Prim and Peeta. They can't let anything slip about you being here in the Capitol. And if one of them were missing, Peeta, at least, would know that something is up. We can't chance that. Snow doesn't like it when people ruin his surprises."

 

I nod. "So what's the plan?"

 

He pulls a watch out of his pocket and looks at it. "In about five minutes, Effie should escort Prim to the studio from the Medical Center and then five minutes after that Haymitch will take Peeta. Snow doesn't want any of the reunions to go untelevised."

 

"So Prim hasn't seen Peeta yet." It isn't a question.

 

"No, although she does know he's alive. The same's true for him."

 

I sit down on one of the chairs in the apartment. "So we wait."

 

"We wait. I'd offer you something to eat, but I'm not sure if it's a good idea."

 

I'd love a cheese bun and sausage sandwich but it's probably not a good idea to eat something and risk getting something on the dress or stuck in between my teeth. To take my mind off of food, I ask, "Effie made the schedule for you, didn't she?"

 

"Efficient Effie strikes again," he says, flashing his trademark smile. He checks his watch again and motions for me to head to the elevator.

 

I feel myself getting nervous, I've got a show to put on and I'm not sure of my lines.  

 

Finnick and I reach the backstage of the studio and we're quickly shooed to a small room off to one side. There's three screens set up, one showing the main stage, another showing the wings stage right and the third showing the wings stage left.   I can see Prim in a little holding area on the third screen. She's in a wheelchair with my mother standing behind her waiting for her cue to push my sister onto the stage.  

 

I take in my sister's image hungrily.   She looks so frail and pale, but she's alive.   But there's something about the way she's holding herself that makes me think that there's a bigger problem. Her arms are held very stiffly, resting awkwardly on the arms of the chair. It's not that she's trying to avoid where Clove's sword ran her through, it's something else.

 

She shifts gingerly and reaches up to pull the neckline of the pale yellow dress away from her and I realize what it is.   My twelve year old sister has been surgically altered to have a body that is more toward the Capitol's idea of perfection.  

 

I feel the anger in me grow and I whirl to see Finnick regarding me with a carefully neutral expression on his face. "Snow ordered it," he says without me prompting him. "Haymitch protested but you know Snow."

 

I do know Snow and he had promised me that he'd keep my sister safe.   This is a direct challenge and a reminder of what will happen if I fail to keep Peeta in check.   My sister will be auctioned off to the highest bidder and knowing Snow, he'll make sure the winner is one of the most disgusting people he can find.  

 

"It's starting," Finnick says and I turn back to watch the screen.

 

The prep teams are called up onstage first, Peeta's team of Aelia, Cynnix, and Diana and then Prim's of Octavia, Flavius, and Venia.   All six of them are bouncing and blowing kisses to the crowd. I'm a little amused at how excited they are to be up there.   Then Portia and Cinna are called up onstage. The applause is even louder for them, they've done an amazing job for their first year and the Capitol appreciates their vision. It's Effie's turn next and I can see that the escort has turned on what I've come to know is her Capitol persona. She's the bumbling ditz I'm used to seeing at the Reaping, her pink wig bobbing up and down as she curtseys over and over.   Finally Haymitch's name is called and the crowd explodes into exuberant applause.   He's managed something no mentor has in the history of the Games. He's managed to bring both of his tributes home.   I can see that even though he's trying his best to remain unaffected, that hearing the approval of the crowd is getting to him. Effie reaches out and grasps his hand and lifts their joined hands aloft in the universal symbol of victory. If I didn't know just how much work she's done to help Haymitch get this, I'd be resentful of her taking part of Haymitch's spotlight. But I know now, just how much of a team Haymitch and Effie have been and how this is the first and last time they'll be together like this.

 

Finally Caesar calls Peeta and Prim up onstage.   Peeta walks out from the wings first and looks around for Prim. My mother pushes the wheelchair to the edge of the stage and Prim carefully stands up. My sister takes a few wobbly steps forward out past the curtain. She doesn't make it very far before Peeta rushes to her side.   He kneels down in front of her, his eyes taking in everything from the way she's holding herself to the changes in her figure. Then, carefully, he lifts her into his arms bridal style and carries her the rest of the way onto the stage.

 

The crowd goes wild. Cheering and screaming and calling both Peeta and Prim's names. Behind the two victors, Caesar bounces up and down, encouraging the audience to be even louder and more exuberant.  

 

Prim smiles and waves from the safety of Peeta's arms. As for Peeta, he's nodding his head at the crowd, but he doesn't loosen his grip on my sister.  

  
The door to the room opens and President Snow steps in. Beside him is a girl about the same age as Prim.

 

"Miss Everdeen," he says, his cold reptilian eyes surveying my form, "you look lovely. I was wondering if you'd join Lyta and me in presenting the victor crowns?" It's phrased as if it were a question instead of the order I know it is.

 

Since I don't have a choice, I say, "I'd be happy to. But I thought that the presentation took place after they recapped the Games."

 

Snow smiles at me. "I thought you would like to watch with your sister and young man, after all it is as much your story as it is theirs."

 

He's not wrong and I hate him a little more for being correct.   I am as much a part of these Games as any of the tributes in them. I might not have been in the Arena itself. But I've been playing a much more dangerous game here in the Capitol and I'm still playing it and will be for the rest of my life. Just because the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games have come to a close doesn't mean that the danger they represent has ended. It hasn't. In a very real sense, the Games have only just begun.

 

There's a little cough and I glance at the little girl next to Snow, his granddaughter, Lyta. She's shifting from foot to foot and is biting her lower lip.

 

Snow notices this and says, "Oh, I've been most rude. Lyta, this is Katniss Everdeen, your new companion's older sister." He turns to me. "Miss Everdeen, my granddaughter Hippolyta Snow."

 

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. So I do what I would do in Twelve, I mumble, "It's nice to meet you," while sticking out my hand to the girl.

 

The girl's face lights up and she grabs a hold of my hand and holds it like it's some kind of lifeline. "It's so great to finally meet you, Katniss!" she exclaims. "I feel like you're already part of the family! Prim's talked about you so much!"

 

I'm thrown. "I didn't know you'd been talking to my sister."

 

"Oh I haven't!" she says, tugging me out the door and over to a table with two pillows holding the two victor crowns. She hands me the red pillow holding the larger of the two crowns while she continues, "Grandpapa says I can't meet her for real until after the Ceremony but I've watched every minute of the Games that I could and I really feel that I know Prim so well already. I know we'll be the best of friends! I just know it!" She stops and looks up at me, her nervousness and hopefulness written all over her face. "Do you think you could be my friend too?"

 

I blink. It's not what I was expecting. I shift my glance to meet President Snow's snake-like gaze. His expression doesn't help me much.   "I don't know, Miss Snow," I say slowly. "I haven't had a chance to get to know you." I don't think it'd be a good idea to say no, but I really don't want to say yes.   "Besides, I live really far away."

 

"You could come live here in the Capitol!" Lyta suggests. "I'm sure Grandpapa could find you a place to live and Peeta could come too!   It'd be great!" She's so eager and I can hear the desperation in her voice. I feel sorry for her, but not enough to get over my wariness of her grandfather.  

 

"But we'd have to leave our family and friends back home.   Why don't we get to know each other first before making a move like that? I don't want to make your grandfather go through all of the effort to find us a place to live here in the Capitol if we aren't the best of friends already." I'm struggling to find a nice way to let the girl down while not angering her protective grandfather. "Besides, I'm sure you and Prim will come visit us a lot in Twelve and that way you can meet the baby." And I'll be able to see my sister more often, I think to myself.

 

Lyta claps her hands. "Oh that's a great idea! And we can call each other too!"

 

"I don't have a phone," I say, without thinking about it.

 

The little girl makes a face. "You don't? But everyone has phones!" She looks at President Snow for confirmation of this fact.

 

Snow fixes me with a steady stare. "I believe your house in the Victor's Village has a telephone." His tone tells me that I need to deflect this conversation to something less controversial.

 

I do my best. "Well, then, you can call me. But that doesn't mean we can't start to get to know each other now, what's your favorite food?" It seems like a safe line of questioning.

 

Lyta beams at me and starts chattering away about something with strawberries and chocolate. My eyes meet Snow's and he nods once, which I think means I've done the right thing.  

 

"Lyta, dear, you can talk to Miss Everdeen later. We mustn't keep Caesar waiting," President Snow interrupts his granddaughter mid-chatter.

 

A black clad woman with a headset over her streaked hair motions for the three of us to take our places behind the curtain directly center stage. It's weird being backstage with President Snow. He instructs Lyta and me in what's going to happen and what our roles are to be.   He fixes me with a hard look, "And do try to control yourself, Miss Everdeen. I don't want you running to greet your boyfriend or your sister the moment we step onstage. I understand it will be most difficult, but please exercise a modicum of restraint. I promise the ceremony will not take too long and then you can greet them to your heart's content."

 

I nod.   There's an order implicit in his statements and I try to figure out just what I'm supposed to do.

 

The woman with the streaked hair starts counting down from five and I can hear Caesar working the crowd up into a frenzy.   I grasp the pillow holding the victor crown in my hands even tighter.   This is it. This is the moment that will define the rest of my life. I'm terrified.

 

The stage manager reaches the count of one and makes a frantic motion to one of the stagehands. The curtains in front of us open and I lay eyes on my Prim in person for the first time in what seems like forever. She's seated on the couch next to Peeta, who's half out of his seat. Her mouth is open in shock at seeing me, and I see what looks like tears in her eyes. I want to run to her, to hold her in my arms and sing all of the lullabies our father used to sing to her.   But I know I can't. Snow's order to control myself rings in my ears.  

 

Then it hits me and I know what I need to do.

 

Darting past President Snow and Lyta, I run as fast as I can toward Peeta and Prim.   As I pass Caesar Flickerman, I thrust the pillow holding Peeta's crown into the startled man's hands.   Then, I throw my arms around both Peeta and Prim, knocking Peeta back onto the couch. I let all of my relief that my sister didn't die in the Games show on my face, knowing that the cameras are capturing every expression. Taking Prim's face in my hands, I press a kiss on each cheek. I'm so relieved she's alive. I don't have to fake this emotion.

 

I turn to Peeta, the reason why my sister was able to make it through the Games.   I reach up with my left hand to stroke his face. His eyes are wide and his mouth is partway open as if he is about to say something. I slide fingers over and press against his mouth to stop whatever words might be about to come out and whisper, "Thank you. Thank you."

 

He nods his head and reaches up with his left hand, clasping my wrist with his fingers.   His three fingers.   His ring finger is missing. The same one that he couldn't feel after the muttation attack.   The one Prim said he might lose. Apparently not even the Capitol could save it.  

 

My eyes fly to his. "I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be," he whispers to me. "I'd sacrifice more than just a finger to make you happy."

 

It's the perfect opening, but I can't stop the nervousness that I feel building in my belly. I force myself to ignore it and instead lean forward and kiss him. The kiss is gentle and not the passionate kiss that I'm sure the Capitol is wanting. But it's the kiss I'm willing to give.

 

When our lips first touch, Peeta stiffens for a moment, then he moves his hands up to cup my face to deepen the kiss. It's different from the one he'd initiated in the Justice Building but I'm not sure how. I'm still painfully aware that there are hundreds of thousands of people watching this so I can't escape the overwhelming feeling of awkward embarrassment in order to analyze what I'm feeling.

 

The sound of a throat clearing makes us draw apart and we turn to see Caesar smiling at us indulgently.

 

Wrapping an arm around his waist, I lean against Peeta and look up at Caesar apologetically. "Sorry about that, Caesar, I saw them and I just couldn't hold myself back anymore."

 

The host waves his hand at us. "Oh, I don't think we minded at all." He turns and asks, "Did we folks?"

 

The crowd cheers and Peeta tightens his grip on me. "I'm glad, because there's something I really need to do," he says, with a smile on his face.

 

Caesar tilts his head in confusion but I know what's coming. I hazard a glance at President Snow and his granddaughter. The president is watching the proceedings with a fixed smile while Lyta is bouncing on her toes laughing and clapping her hands in happiness.

 

I force myself to pay attention to Peeta, who's getting down on one knee in front of me.   This is it. I try to make my expression be the right mix of confusion, breathless anticipation, and fondness.   I've practiced this face in the mirror, but I'm not sure if it's going to be enough.

 

"Katniss Everdeen, I've loved you since I was five years old. Will you make me the happiest man in all of Panem and be my wife?" He's looking up at me so earnestly that for a moment I almost believe that this proposal is real.   At least real for him.   Part of me thinks that it might be, he does care for me I know, but he also knows I don't love him or feel anything for him really other than gratitude and a debt. In that instant, my heart goes out to him. He's getting exactly what he's always wanted but it's a pyrrhic victory because it isn't real. This whole proposal and romance is a sham and he knows it.  

 

I reach down and take his hands in mine. I give them a gentle squeeze and whisper, "Yes.   Of course I will."

 

He smiles up at me brightly, so brightly that it makes my chest ache.  

 

I can't bear to look at that smile anymore so I tug him to his feet so I can pull him into a kiss.  

 

He lets me and this kiss is similar to the one a few minutes ago, very embarrassing.  

 

"Katniss?" Prim's voice comes from beside me. She's confused. I can hear it in her tone.  

 

I pull away from Peeta and turn to her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Peeta and me earlier. I know how protective of me you are and I didn't want you to take it out on Peeta." The excuse sounds lame to my ears but it's the best Finnick and I could come up with. I put a pleading expression on my face that I don't have to feign. This whole thing could go wrong if Prim says the wrong thing right now.

 

My sister regards me seriously for several moments then nods. "You should have told me, Katniss. I like Peeta." She doesn't mention Gale. I'm grateful for her omission.   Snow doesn't know about him and I'd like to keep it that way.  

 

"It seems we owe Mister Mellark and Miss Everdeen congratulations," President Snow says, stepping forward smoothly. "Allow me to be the first to wish you all of the happiness in Panem and bestow upon you the first of what I would guess will be many gifts. A wedding hosted here in the Capitol in a week's time."

 

I can hear my sister's gasp of surprise over the roar of the crowd, but Peeta is as unsurprised as I am judging from his body language. He smiles and reaches out a hand to President Snow. "Thank you, Sir, this means a lot to me and Katniss. I promise I'll remember this kindness."

 

The words are polite but there's a hint of something behind them. Something rebellious.   I can imagine Haymitch groaning right now and a quick look over at where the mentor is standing with a pained expression confirms my suspicions. He isn't happy with Peeta's choice of words, but there isn't anything he can do about it.   The burden's on me now.

 

I paste what I hope is a lovestruck smile on my face and clasp Peeta's arm and lean up against him. "I'm so glad we don't have to wait to get married. That way we can spend our time getting ready for the baby!" I take the arm I'm holding and forcibly place Peeta's hand on my protruding stomach. It's a reminder of what's at stake and I'm hoping that Peeta gets the hint.

 

Peeta stiffens for half a second and I hold my breath, hoping he won't say anything else inflammatory.

 

Slowly he turns and reaches up with his other hand and places it on the other side of my belly. He looks down at me in awe and murmurs, "Did it move? Did I imagine it?" His voice is a little awestruck.

 

"She knows you're home and wants to say hello," I say in response.   My daughter has been active a lot lately, probably because I'm so nervous, but I've been doing my best to ignore it.  

 

Peeta swallows visibly and meets my eyes. "I promise I'll be a good father to her and a good husband to you."

 

I can tell he means what he says but before I can say anything Caesar steps in. "Isn't this exciting, folks? It's scenes like this that make the Hunger Games so amazing! I bet you can't wait for the recap!"

 

The crowd roars their approval.

 

President Snow holds up a hand and the audience quiets. "Before we show you Primrose and Peeta's Games there's one more thing we must do." He turns to me. "Miss Everdeen, if you could take back the item you so carelessly passed to Caesar we can continue."

 

Caesar hands me the cushion with Peeta's victor crown on it and I thank him with a nod of my head before moving to stand next to President Snow.

 

President Snow gives me a look that I take to mean that no more interruptions or going off script will be tolerated.   I wasn't planning on doing any more tonight anyway, getting engaged and lying to an entire country is enough for tonight.

 

The crowning ceremony is almost anti-climactic.   President Snow places the circlets on my sister's and Peeta's heads and recites the same words he's used with every victor for as long as I can remember.   I tune it out and instead focus on watching the people around me. Most of the audience is watching the proceedings raptly but here and there are a few faces that seem disappointed or bored.   Next to me, Lyta keeps fidgeting nervously and shooting little hopeful glances at Prim. I can tell she desperately wants to talk to my sister but the pomp and solemnity of the ceremony won't let her.

 

After the ceremony, it's time for the recap.   In past years, the victor has been seated alone in a throne-like chair with Caesar to watch the three hour rehashing of all of the highlights of the Games. However, with two victors and me watching the recap, they've eschewed the thrones and instead have a sofa just barely big enough to fit the three of us, Prim and Peeta on the ends with me in the middle.

 

The recap starts and I think back to the ones I remember watching in the past. In most years, they tell a story of strength overcoming all odds. This year, though, they tell a love story. But not the typical love story popularized in all of the Capitol soap operas and trite films they play when they aren't rerunning the Games, this love story features both romantic and familial love and I've got as much of a role in this recap as Prim and Peeta.   They've even commissioned a trite song to play over and over at key moments in the recap called "Two Lives, One Heart" or something equally repulsive.  

 

It starts with my Reaping, as I knew it would.   They show it in all of its horrible glory, I can see the expression on my face when Prim volunteers and then again when Peeta's name is chosen.   Both times there's a flash of despair and fear before I manage to get my features under control. I didn't know I'd reacted so strongly to Peeta's Reaping but I'm glad I did, it makes the story we're telling easier to sell.

 

The film moves on to Prim and Peeta's triumphant chariot ride through the city and the announcement of their training scores. Here, Caesar remarks that everyone should have known then that Prim and Peeta were forces to be reckoned with.   Then they show the highlights of the interviews. In Prim's, they focus on her determination to protect me and my baby while in Peeta's they zoom right to his admission that the girl he was in love with wouldn't want him to win because it would mean her little sister wouldn't be coming home.  

 

I know I'm supposed to show some kind of reaction to that, so I reach out and grasp both Peeta and Prim's hands and give them a quick squeeze and what I hope is a grateful and loving smile.   I'm not used to smiling so much and according to Finnick and Effie most of my smiles look like I'm trying not to throw up on the person I'm smiling at.   Effie didn't like it much when I told her that she was pretty close to the truth but Finnick got a big laugh out of it. Then he showed me how to school my face to hide my feelings better.   I appreciated the kindness since I know that he, more than anyone else I've met, has had to hide what he feels from the people of the Capitol.  

 

I do my best to support Peeta and Prim as the Games get started. They linger over the girl from Four's death and Clove's incapacitation.   I can feel Peeta tensing beside me and I know that a hand squeeze won't be enough.   I lean over and whisper in his ear, "That isn't you up there, not the real you, you're still the boy with the bread and nothing can change that. Especially not the Games, you only did what you had to so Prim could survive." I don't know why I say those specific words but they seem to be the right ones because Peeta sighs and nods.   I give him a quick peck on the cheek and go back to watching the recap.

 

They show Prim meeting up with Rue and the death of Piper followed by them reuniting with Peeta and his saving the two girls from the fire trap. From watching the Games, I'm aware of just how much they've cut out. There's almost nothing from the Career camp and they completely omit Rani's confrontation with Marvel. From what I can tell, they're only showing each tribute's death and almost nothing else. I have a hunch that the producers of this recap are going to do their best to show Rani as little as possible and the reason they're omitting so much from the Career camp is because of what Axel from District Three did with the mines and my hunch is borne out as the recap continues.   They even manage to make it look like Prim is the one who struck the final blow against Clint, the boy from Ten with the lame foot, rather than Rani. I glance at my sister to see her reaction and I can tell that she's frowning. I poke her arm and shake my head at her slightly to warn her not to say anything contradictory. She frowns at me and sticks out her tongue.   This time the smile that comes to my lips isn't fake.

 

Then to my surprise, I appear on the large screen.   It's my interview with Caesar and I can feel my stomach clench. I should have expected this considering I'm an integral part of this love story. As my interview is replayed I watch Peeta and Prim's reactions to my words. At a certain point, Prim leans against me and I place my arm around her.   I can tell she's upset but she's struggling to hide it.   I stroke her arm as soothingly as I can but I don't say anything. I know I'm being watched.

 

At another point in my interview, Peeta leans over and whispers, "I'm sorry. They think the baby's mine."

 

"Snow doesn't. He knows the baby is someone else's and that you know she's not yours," I whisper back.

 

He nods, putting his arm around me and Prim protectively.   I know it's for the cameras, but I feel a little better.  

 

The rest of the recap goes by quickly, Peeta and Prim look away for about a half an hour of the show as Rani, Rue, Thresh, Cato, and Clove all meet their ends.   I'm a bit surprised that they've kept the last bit with Peeta and the nightlock berries but when I think about it, I know they can't sweep it away.

 

At the very end of the recap, there's a small In Memoriam section that features those people who were a part of the making of the Hunger Games who died between last year and this year. Most of the time, it's one or two people who no one knows but this year is different. There's a specially commissioned song called "Time to Say Goodbye" rather than the generic tribute remembrance song that they typically use and the list of people is much longer. There's the typical former Gamemakers who died of old age up first but then a name I know from previous Games comes up, Gaius Nestor, one of the old stylists for District Twelve. Now I know how Cinna and Portia got their jobs.   Then there's a loud gasp from the audience at the next set of names: Kinet Edison, Dyna Gibbs, and Striker Diamante. Three Mentors, all of them visible during the Games, and now they're dead.   Kinet and Dyna, I knew about but I'm guessing Striker was taken out for hitting that obnoxious reporter during his daughter's exit interview. As much as it was deserved, the Capitol can't let that slight pass unpunished. The last name is one I am unsurprised to see based on the conversation with Finnick, Effie, Beetee and Haymitch earlier in the week, but I can tell the rest of the audience isn't in the know as I am so when Claudius Templesmith's picture and name appears there's a huge outcry.   They linger on his remembrance section, showing him playing off of Caesar and sitting pensively in the Games Control Room.

 

The screen fades to black and the lights come up and I can see that Caesar has tears streaming down his cheeks. "It wounds me to the very heart to confirm that my beloved co-host, Claudius, did indeed pass away quite suddenly of a heart attack yesterday evening." Caesar pauses to pull himself together. "The excitement of the Games was just too much for him, I suppose. He will be missed." Caesar's voice catches. "They'll all be missed." He turns away to hide the fact that he's unable to cry prettily and I note that he's not the only one who's unable to keep the tears from overflowing.

 

Peeta stands up and crosses to Caesar and puts an arm around the blue-haired man. "Don't be ashamed to cry over the loss of your friend, Caesar. We all saw how I cried over Rani and how Clove cried over Cato. It's a reality of the Games, people we care about are going to die. It's how we choose to remember them that matters."

 

I groan internally at Peeta's words.

 

Fortunately, they seem to cheer Caesar up.   The blue haired man turns around and clasps Peeta's shoulder firmly. "Thank you, Peeta, that really means a lot that you'd comfort an old TV host like me. You're right, it's how we choose to remember our fallen friends that matters and I think that more than anything Claudius would want us to soldier on with the Games." He looks out at the audience. "What do you think, folks?"

 

The shouts of encouragement aren't as loud as they normally are, but they're still there so Caesar takes that as a sign to continue with the final part of the recap, the Question and Answer section. Most of the time, it's Caesar asking about the winning tribute's strategy during the Games or their opinion on some memorable part. This year is no different.  

 

Peeta and Prim talk about how they'd gone in with the plan to form a counter-alliance against the Careers thinking that there would be safety in numbers. Caesar compliments them on their cunning, then he turns to Prim.

 

"How did you feel when you killed that boy from Ten?"

 

Prim blinks. "I thought Rani killed him."

 

Caesar leans forward.   "Well, she may have helped, but the autopsy results are clear, it was your hitting him in the head with a rock that was the killing blow."

 

At that revelation, Prim goes white and starts to shake. "I didn't know," she murmurs. "I didn't know."

 

I pull her into a hug, it's awkward with my expanding belly and the angle that she's at, but I manage it.   I make soothing noises under my breath and rub her back. Turning to Caesar, I say, "I think it's safe to say she was afraid for her life and was willing to do anything to stay alive."

 

The host isn't totally heartless and directs his next question at Peeta, giving me time to try to calm Prim down.  

 

Thankfully the show is almost over when Caesar brings up one final thing. "So Katniss, seeing that Peeta and Prim are this year's victors I think it's time for us to reveal the top voting getting names for your and Peeta's baby!" He turns to the audience. "Would you like that, folks?"

 

There's a loud cheer.  

 

"I knew you would! So without further adieu here are the top three names in no particular order!" He consults a note card. "Matrona!   Pudentiana! And Pulcheria!"

 

I was right. The Capitol is going to saddle my child with a horrible name. My daughter agrees, kicking my ribs incessantly.  

 

"So when will we find out what the winning name will be?" I ask.

 

"Eager to get to work personalizing the nursery?" Caesar teases.

 

"Something like that," Peeta agrees.   I can see he thinks the names are as horrible as I do.  

 

"Well, you're in luck. I have right here that the winning name will be announced on your very own personalized baby registry on September first. That should give you plenty of time to pick out what gifts you want for the little lady."

 

I have no idea what a registry is but it sounds ominous.  

 

Still, I smile sweetly at Caesar and can't keep the feeling of relief from my face when he says, "And with that, I bid you goodnight, folks! I hope you had a happy Hunger Games!"

 

**oOo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written: 5/18/14  
> Revised: 7/20/14  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reviewed. This AN is short because I am posting it from the out of town!
> 
> There may be a delay in my next chapter. I've had a lot of things hit in my real life including the death of my cat. 
> 
> Until next time!


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty Five**

 

I barely make it offstage before Prim's shout of "Katniss!" stops me. I turn and see my sister, carried in Peeta's arms, looking at me accusingly. I know what she wants. She wants to know why I was acting the way I was onstage. Why I kissed Peeta the way I did. The person she saw up on stage isn't the sister she remembers and I don't blame her one bit for that, I barely remember the person I used to be before I came to the Capitol and had to play this dangerous game.  

 

"Not now, Prim," I tell her, forestalling any questions. I glance around at the stagehands and other people backstage, including a few white clad Peacekeepers. "This isn't the time or place to talk. We've got places to be."

 

I see Prim open her mouth to protest, when Peeta steps in. "Listen to your sister, Prim. You can talk later." He gives me a pointed look. "I think I'd like to have a talk with your sister myself."

 

I make a face, but nod at him anyway. I'm not looking forward to talking with Peeta. Other than the time when we said goodbye in the Justice Building, we've never talked before, and now in less than a week we're going to get married. The whole thing is surreal. "We should get going, there's a meet and greet with all of the people who sponsored you and then the formal reception at the President's Mansion. We wouldn't want to be late."

 

"Now you're sounding like Effie," Prim says, wrinkling her nose.

 

The words wash over me like an ice bath. I do sound like Effie when I'm in my Capitol persona. Somehow, I've unconsciously imitated the former District Twelve escort's mannerisms and speech patterns. I've seen their effectiveness firsthand but Effie is a far cry from what Prim and Peeta remember me being like. Something inside of me snaps and all of the stress and the strain of the past month pile on me all at once. Unable to stop myself, I crumble to the ground in tears.

 

And I can't seem to stop crying.  

 

Gut-wrenching sobs wrack my body and I try to pull my knees up to my chest only to have them hit the swell of my pregnant belly. Somehow that makes everything worse. I can't even bawl my eyes out properly.  

 

Distantly I hear Prim calling for my mother and demanding Peeta let her down so she can comfort me.

 

I don't want comfort. I just want things to go back to normal.  

 

I feel Prim's arms snake around my shoulders as she pulls me close. I can feel the unnatural augmentation that the Capitol did to her pressing against my arm and it drives home the point that I can never have normal ever again.   It's that realization that hurts the most.

 

"Katniss, what's wrong?" Prim asks.

 

I can't answer her, even if my sobs would let up enough for me to speak, because the answer is everything.   Everything is wrong and nothing is right. And what's worse, I don't know how to go about fixing any of it.

 

Through my tears, I can hear Peeta talking with someone else in a low tone. He sounds angry, but I can't bring myself to even try to focus in on the words.   All I can think about is how messed up everything is and that it's going to just continue to get worse. The Capitol and President Snow have me caught like a rabbit in a snare and there's nothing I can do to escape.

 

From behind me I hear a calm voice say, "Why don't you go with Peeta to the party, Prim? I'll take care of Katniss." It's Cinna and I feel a wash of gratitude. I don't want to keep crying in front of Prim and Peeta and everyone else. But Cinna's different. He's calmer and I don't have to worry about making things worse with him. For all that I love Prim, she's twelve and still has an optimistic view of the world. I can't be the one to destroy what's left of her childhood. I can't.  

 

I look up and see Cinna crouched down next to me, behind him I can make out Effie leading Peeta and Prim off, she's got the wheelchair my mother was pushing earlier and is fussing about Prim, making sure she's settled in.

 

My sister keeps glancing over at me with a concerned look on her face. I know she'd rather stay here with me, but Cinna's right, she and Peeta need to get to the party.    

 

I sniff loudly and Cinna offers me a handkerchief.   "Here. It's clean."

 

I nod. I would have taken it anyway. My nose is one giant snot-filled mess and I'm sure I look a fright with my makeup all runny and my red eyes.

 

"It's not that bad, Katniss," he reassures me, doing that creepy mind reading thing that he does. "I've got some mascara and lipstick with me and a little cold water will take care of the red."

 

"I wish you would stop doing that," I grumble, pleased that I'm able to actually manage words.

 

Cinna shrugs. "So what was the straw?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"It comes from an old idiom 'the straw that broke the camel's back,' it means something little that is the final thing that causes a collapse. Or, in your case, a crying jag."

 

"It's stupid," I mutter, embarrassed.

 

"They almost always are."

 

I sigh and blow my nose loudly. A few stagehands look up in surprise, but then go back to their work.   I guess Capitol ladies don't get snotty noses.   I crumple up the soggy handkerchief in my hand and mumble, "Prim said I sounded like Effie."

 

"Ah." Cinna shifts to sit down next to me.

 

"I told you it was stupid!"

 

He nods. "You did. I'm not sure I agree with you that it's something stupid though."

 

I sniffle, before blowing my nose again. "Why not?"

 

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but Effie's Games Persona is what the people back in Twelve think all Capitol citizens are like."

 

"Pretty much," I say with a nod.

 

"And I'm guessing the people where you live don't think much of the Capitol," Cinna continues.

 

"To be fair, the people where I live don't think much of the merchants either." It's a deflection and I know it.

 

Cinna knows it too because he follows up with, "And they think even less of the Capitol." It's a statement, not a question.

 

I don't dare answer, but Cinna's right. We don't think much of the Capitol in Twelve because the only sides that the Capitol shows us are the frivolous or frightening ones. Back in the Seam, it's an insult to be compared to a merchant, who we see as soft, but it's an even worse insult to be compared to someone in the Capitol. It implies you don't care about the suffering of those around you, only your own personal gain, which is anathema to everything the Seam stands for.   I shrug; it's the only answer I dare give.

 

"Right, so in your mind you were insulted by someone you cared for and it hurt. That sounds like a pretty valid reason to get upset."

 

"But she didn't mean it! She was just teasing!" I defend my sister.

 

Cinna nods in agreement. "You're right she probably was teasing. I hear that's what siblings do. But considering everything else you've been going through plus the pregnancy hormones, I'm really surprised you didn't have a breakdown earlier."

 

"I broke down at the Reaping," I say in a low tone.

 

"So do a lot of tributes. It's nothing to get more upset over. What's done is done, and District Three hasn't managed to make a time machine despite Capitol funding, so there's no going back to fix things. All you can do is keep moving forward and I'll be there for you as much as you need me to be."

 

"Why?" I ask, blinking up at him.

 

Cinna shrugs. "I like you, Katniss. You've got something that I haven't seen in a long time."

 

"What's that?"

 

"Spirit," he answers. Then he gets to his feet and holds a hand down to me. "I think the worst of it's over now. Why don't we go freshen up your make up and make an appearance at the little party before pleading exhaustion and taking a break between this party and the soiree later tonight?"

 

I smile up at him. "Sounds like a plan."

 

oOo

 

The party reminds me of the sponsor party Effie and Cinna took me to on my first night in the Capitol.   It seems strange, that night seems so very long ago but it's only been less than two weeks since that night. So much has changed since then.

 

I force myself not to dwell on that as I make my rounds. Like last time, I have a solicitous escort who makes excuses for me to disengage from whomever I am speaking with.   I'm a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who are at this event, all of them sponsors of Peeta, Prim, or both. There's the movie star couple Marcus Ford and Callista McBeal who gushingly tell me that they're going to be doing a movie inspired by my parents' love story with them playing the leads, they only sponsored Prim because they'd feel bad if they told her parents' story and didn't do anything to support the child of that union. Then there's the Minister of Education, Lucius Bush, who tells me that he always sponsors any twelve year olds in the Games. He figures that a hundred coin isn't that much and if it gives the younger tributes a sporting chance, then it's money well spent.   Then there's the ones who I'd give anything to be able to avoid. Sponsors like the Department of Minerals Assistant Deputy Director, Virgil Snell, I remember him from the first soiree. He's the one that likes to find 'diamonds in the rough' and from the looks he's shooting at my sister, I think he feels he's found one.  

 

I struggle to keep my revulsion off of my face, but I'm not totally successful because Snell says, "Is something the matter, Miss Everdeen? You look a bit dyspeptic."

 

I have no idea what dyspeptic means, but I'm guessing it means something negative. Thankfully, Cinna steps in. "Very astute of you to notice, Assistant Deputy Director, Katniss here has been feeling a little under the weather today, but she's been insistent that she not miss out on any of the festivities and I make it a point not to argue with a pregnant woman." He gives a little shrug.

 

Snell nods at me with a little smirk. "I'm flattered you've decided to grace me with your presence then."

 

I try to think of what Effie would say and come up with, "Oh, I had to come, sir. I wanted to make sure everyone knew just how much I appreciated all of the help they gave Peeta and Prim in the Arena. I know it's not much, but it's the least I could do." I manage a wan smile and I hope it's convincing.

 

The man seems to accept it and Cinna makes an excuse for me to move on to the next well-wisher.

 

"How much more do I have to take?" I ask in a low tone when we're out of earshot.

 

"Not too much more. President Snow left while we were talking with Snell. Now that he's gone, we can leave without offending people."

 

I hazard a glance over at Prim. She looks like she's about to faint. "Can we take Prim with us?"

 

Cinna thinks about it for a moment before replying, "We can try. I'll say something about needing her to change clothes and redoing her hair for the president's reception tonight." He smiles at me. "The excuse also has the benefit of being true. The dress she's wearing now isn't appropriate for a party at the president's mansion."

 

Nodding my head, I come to a decision. "Then let's go. I've had about all I can stand and since I'm going to have to make myself be social again later, I'd rather not use up all of my civility now."

 

Cinna chuckles at my statement.

 

Rescuing Prim is fairly easy, most everyone in the room is aware of her injuries and the fact that she's still in a wheelchair reinforces the impression that she's still weak. As Cinna extracts Prim from her admirers, I notice a few other Capitolites slipping out. Apparently President Snow's departure is the signal that it's time to get ready for the festivities later tonight.

 

I can't wait, I think to myself sarcastically.  

 

With a few more meaningless platitudes, Prim, my mother, Cinna and I make our escape. I catch Peeta's eye on my way out the door and he mouths something and gives me a nod. I have no idea what he said, but I'm not about to stop to find out.  

 

The elevator ride to the twelfth floor is silent. I think all of us are socialized out and are dreading the soiree tonight.   I know I am.

 

We reach the floor and my mother makes a beeline to the dining area and the coffee within.   We don't get coffee much in the Seam, but I know my mother has a love of it from when she was still the apothecary's daughter. Prim and I exchange a smile, our father used to save up every year to give my mother a bag of beans for her birthday. It's one of the few memories Prim and I share of our father.   She hadn't had coffee since he died. Not until we came to the Capitol.

 

Prim and I say goodbye to Cinna, who tells us he'll be back for us in an hour with his prep team to help us get ready. It's barely enough time for a nap, but I'll take what I can get.

 

"Do you think I could sleep with you, Katniss?" Prim asks, rising to her feet unsteadily.  

 

I narrow my eyes and regard her sharply.

 

Prim shifts, nervously, one hand pressed against the wall to steady herself. "I don't like sleeping alone," she says softly.

 

"Nightmares?" I ask, trying to keep my voice under control.

 

She nods.

 

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, hoping she'll say no.

 

"Not really," Prim tells me. "I keep thinking I'm back in the Games." Her eyes lose their focus and her voice becomes distant. "I keep seeing their faces and hearing their voices. They want to know why a nothing like me got to live and they didn't."

 

I take a step forward and carefully lay a hand on Prim's shoulder. She looks up at me with a stricken expression on her face and asks, "Why'd they have to die? Why did any of them have to die?"

 

"I don't know, Prim. I don't know."

 

She buries her face in my shoulder and starts to cry.   Putting my arms around her, I try to comfort her like she tried to comfort me a few hours before. And just like before it doesn't work.  

 

I guide her to my bedroom and help her lie down on the bed, lying down next to her so I can hold her while she weeps.   I know that she's going to need to cry herself out, but at least this way I can comfort her and myself.

 

Dredging up the memories of my father comforting me when I had nightmares when I was a little girl, I start to sing.   Softly almost inaudibly at first and as I see the song starting to have an effect on Prim my voice becomes louder and more confident.  

 

I make it through both the Valley Song and the Mockingjay Lullaby before I notice that Prim's cried herself to sleep.   I press a kiss to the top of her head and look around the room, trying to decide if I want to take a nap myself or find something to eat, and see Peeta standing in the doorway.  

 

There's a look on his face that I can't quite put my finger on; it's part tenderness and part wistfulness and part something else. It makes me uncomfortable.

 

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask in a low tone, careful not to wake Prim.

 

"Only a few minutes," he answers. "I wanted to see how Prim was doing. I keep having nightmares that she didn't make it."   He rubs his hand, his left one with the missing finger, over his face. "Seeing her alive and here helps."

 

I nod. I feel the same way. "You said you wanted to talk."

 

"Not now," he says with a small shake of his head. "Later. When we're alone."

 

I know he doesn't mean Prim by the way his eyes dart around the room, from the flower arrangement on the dresser to the lamp on the bedside table.   The bugs. He doesn't want to chance being overheard by the Capitol and guessing what the potential conversation will be about, I don't want it overheard either.

 

"Later," I agree. I'd rather never have that conversation, but Peeta deserves to know the truth. I owe him that much.

 

Peeta leaves and I decide that a nap is the best thing, so I settle down to try to get some rest.   I'm guessing there will be food at the party and I'm tired now.   Tightening my arms around Prim to remind myself she's still here, I sleep.

 

oOo

 

The Victor's Gala at President Snow's mansion isn't what I expect it to be.   In my mind, I imagined that it'd be more like the party earlier in the day or the meet and greet that Effie and Cinna took me to on my first day in the Capitol.   Instead, the entire District Twelve team is lined up at the top of a wide set of stairs with Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, and Prim on the end furthest from the top of the stairs with me situated between Peeta and Effie. I'm confused why we're not going inside, even though the wide double doors are standing open.

 

My confusion must show on my face because Effie explains, "It's called a receiving line. They're common at weddings, funerals, and other formal soirees like this."

 

I grunt and flex my toes inside my heels wishing not for the first time that I was wearing more comfortable shoes or that there was a nearby chair that I could plop myself into.  

 

The escort gives me a look. "Really, Katniss, you need to work on your poise and demeanor. Head up, back straight, gracious smile," she says, demonstrating each item as she lists them. "After all, all of these people want to meet the three of you. This way they can all say they've had the pleasure without monopolizing your time all evening."

 

I glance over at Prim, who's leaning heavily on Peeta. "How long will this reception line take?"

 

"About an hour," Haymitch answers before Effie can. "Snow'll send an avox to come get us when it's time to go inside."

 

"I'm not sure Prim will be able to make it that long," Peeta murmurs.

 

My sister glares up at him. "I'm fine. I made it through the Games. I can make it through this."

 

"If you find you cannot, Primrose, I've made arrangements for you to be allowed to greet people seated in a wheelchair," Effie interjected smoothly. "President Snow was most insistent that you not overtax yourself tonight."

 

I suspect that Lyta had something to do with this kindness but I'll accept it for Prim's sake.

 

"Can I take off my shoes?" I ask next. "I'm not sure I can stand in them for an hour without falling over."

 

Effie purses her lips and eyes the dress Cinna and his team dressed me in, a high necked low backed floor length dress continuing the fire theme with artfully draped layered iridescent silk organza in red, orange, and gold gathered under my bust with Seneca Crane's fire opal broach, and nods. "Just keep your feet hidden," she says with a sigh.

 

I nod and gratefully step out of the peep-toed red heels.

 

"It's show time!" Cinna hisses from his place near the front of the receiving line.  

 

Effie pats her wig and leans over to straighten the square of fabric in Haymitch's lapel, while the mentor takes one last swig of something from the silver flask he always carries.  

 

"Are you ready?" Peeta asks Prim.

 

She nods, giving him an earnest smile. "I'll be fine. It's Katniss here you have to worry about. She hates people."

 

"I do not!" I protest. "I like you!"

 

"One person is not 'people'," she counters.

 

"Children," Haymitch cuts in, "you might want to tone it down, the party's starting."

 

Effie glances at Peeta and me. "Hold hands," she hisses.

 

My eyes drop to Peeta's hand, his left one, the one that's missing a finger.  

 

Peeta follows my glance and whispers, "You don't need to. It's okay, I'll understand." His tone is guarded like he's preparing himself to be hurt.  

 

I don't trust myself to say the right thing so I reach down and grab his hand and give it a little squeeze. He squeezes my hand back and then we're on.

 

For the next hour we greet this official and that official, actors, politicians, businessmen, and Gamemakers. The whole thing is a blur with only a few stand out encounters.

 

The first is with Seneca Crane. The bearded man seems pleased to see me again and gives Peeta a hearty greeting. "So I finally get to meet the man who hurled a weight at a gathering of Gamemakers."

 

Peeta flinches. "I just wanted you to pay attention, sir."

 

"Well, you certainly got that. I'm pleased to see you've made it through. I'm quite fond of your fiancée here."

 

Peeta gives me a questioning look before answering, "So am I."

 

Seneca laughs. "Oh, it's not like that, I assure you. Your girl had some very good ideas about future Games and how to make them more interesting.   I'd tell you all about it but I really must run. There's an important meeting at midnight and I still have to make my rounds."

 

The second stand out encounter is when Hippolyta Snow arrives with her parents Martius Snow and his wife Titania.   Lyta is positively ecstatic to meet and talk with all of us. She's bouncing and trying not to gush too horribly, but failing.   Prim puts her at ease and I can see that my sister will be a good friend to Lyta. I can see that Lyta's parents are aware of the situation and future plans but from Prim's actions and words, it's clear that no one has told her yet. It's painful watching Prim going through the motions of her Games Persona without her knowing that she's going to have to keep it up for who knows how long. Thinking of the relationship between Cecelia and Effie, I have high hopes for Prim and Lyta. But still, someone needs to tell Prim about the arrangements made on her behalf.

 

And somehow, I know it's going to be me.

 

The final encounter that stands out is one I have with another Gamemaker named Plutarch Heavesbee.   The man greets Haymitch and Effie effusively and then turns to me and Peeta.

 

"And if it isn't our star-crossed lovers, Peeta and Katniss," he says jovially. "I'm so happy to see it's turned out better for you than the other star-crossed lovers in history and literature."

 

Peeta and I share an equally confused look before Peeta says. "Thank you, sir. I just wanted Katniss to be happy. If I happened to survive to see her happiness firsthand then I'm just lucky."

 

Heavesbee gives Peeta a sharp look. "Luck had nothing to do with it," he hisses and then storms off.

 

"Do you have any idea what just happened?" Peeta asks me.

 

I shake my head. "I've never met him before."

 

"Interesting," Peeta murmurs to himself before turning to greet the wife of some ministry official.  

 

When the avox comes to relieve us, I'm more than ready.   My stomach has been grumbling the last twenty minutes and I desperately need to find a bathroom.   Prim took advantage of Effie's arrangements for a wheelchair thirty minutes ago and is wheeled into the mansion by a husky man dressed in avox red.

 

Breaking protocol, Effie escorts me inside to the bathroom while Haymitch takes Peeta into the reception hall.  

 

I get to the large, richly appointed room and gape. I'd thought that the bathrooms on the train and in the tribute quarters were fancy. This is a whole other level. The floors, counters, and walls are sheathed in pink marble. There's two separate rooms for taking care of business and a large sink with an even larger mirror on one wall. In an alcove, there's some kind of couch-like bed next to a table with a large vase filled with several of Snow's signature flowers.  

 

Effie nudges me further into the room and closes the door behind us. Glancing around, she fiddles with something on her wrist and then goes to one of the sinks and turns on the water full blast.   Then she knocks on the door of one of the rooms and Prim carefully comes out.

 

She gives me a look I can't decipher and turns to Effie. "Can you leave us alone?"

 

"Unfortunately, no." Effie doesn't elaborate, but I can guess why she can't leave. She's there to make sure I don't say anything wrong.

 

Prim frowns, clenching her hands into a fist.   "Fine," she says, the tone of her voice indicating that this isn't fine but she's dealing with it. "I wanted to apologize to you, Katniss, for saying you were sounding like Effie. I didn't know it'd make you cry."

 

I nod. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean to."

 

"Yeah, but I meant what I said. You did sound like Effie and not like yourself and what was with the whole kissing Peeta thing and him proposing to you! What was that? I've never seen you with Peeta ever and now you're all lovey-dovey. Something happened. Something big. I need to know what!" The words tumble out of Prim's mouth like a waterfall.

 

I sigh and sit down, looking up at Effie. I'm not sure where to begin and I say so.

 

"Condense it," Effie counsels. "We need to get to the reception before President Snow sends someone to look for us."

 

I nod, trying to gather my thoughts into something coherent. "I did it so that you could come home," I start. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you and I know Peeta promised to protect you, but I couldn't take the chance that he'd change his mind. When the rule change went through, Haymitch, Cinna and Effie all encouraged me to play up the romance between me and Peeta. The Capitol didn't care that you'd sacrificed yourself for me and that I'd do the same thing for you. They wanted a love story.   They had one with the two from Two; I had to give them a better one."

 

"That isn't all of it, is it?"

 

I shake my head. "No. Peeta and Rani did a lot of things that were borderline treasonous. If I didn't do something to rein Peeta in, they'd have likely eliminated him."

 

"The cookies." It's a statement.

 

"The cookies," I agree. "They brought us, by us I mean all of the families, here as hostages to make sure you tributes would kill each other and not do what they did in the Third Games."

 

Prim nods. We're taught about the Third Games young, before our first Reaping, so that we know the repercussions of rebellion in the Games.   "So you did it to save Peeta."

 

"I did it to save you and I'd do it again," I correct her gently. "You're my sister, little duck, and I'd do just about anything to keep you safe."

 

Prim connects the dots. "If they'd killed Peeta, I'd have died and that girl from Two would be the winner."

 

"You don't know that." Someone else could have been the winner, but it wouldn't have been Prim. However, I'm not about to tell her that.

 

I don't need to because Prim says, "No, I do. I'm not a fighter or a killer. They only said I killed that boy from Ten because they didn't want to give Rani the kill or have a Victor who wasn't a killer. I know my blow didn't kill him. I know it!"   Prim bursts into tears.

 

I gather my sister into my arms and hold her while she cries. I don't know enough about anatomy to know if what the Capitol says is true or not, but I do know that in all of the previous Games that the winner killed at least one other tribute, even if they ultimately won by outlasting the competition. If Prim's right, she would have been the first and I can see how that'd cause problems for future Games.

 

"We'd better go," Effie says a few moments later. "We've tarried long enough."

 

I nod. I grab a washcloth and wet it in the water Effie has running and take it back to Prim. She scrubs at her face, smearing her eye makeup more.  

 

Effie sighs and comes over to help, dabbing the wet cloth to remove the mess from my sister's face.   "Everyone's going to know you've been crying," she says matter-of-factly, standing back to survey her work. "But it's as good of an excuse as any as to why we've been so delayed. Better a private breakdown than a public one."

 

She gives me the once over to make sure I haven't managed to mangle Cinna's creation and bobs her head. I'm good even though I can see that my dress didn't escape entirely unscathed. Then she turns back to Prim and asks, "Will you need a chair?"

 

"Not right now," my sister replies, shaking her head.  

 

"Good. We can make a better impression if you're able to stand."

 

She leads us from the bathroom down a long hallway to a large room which is illuminated by two huge chandeliers. There's stairs leading down into the room and a set of double doors leading out into a well lit garden. Along one long wall are several tables laden with food of all kinds. While along the other wall a small group of musicians is clustered around a large oddly shaped instrument. Near the musicians, a few couples are dancing in careful circles in time to the music. It isn't like the dancing or music we have back in Twelve, it's almost stuffy compared to what I'm used to.

 

I nod my head to several people as we descend to pay our respects to President Snow, who's holding court in one corner where he can watch the festivities. Haymitch and Peeta stand near the President while he converses with Seneca Crane.  

 

Snow looks up at our approach. "Ahh Misses Everdeen and Miss Trinket, so good of you to join us. The celebration has been quite lacking without you, our esteemed guests of honor." His voice is smooth but his eyes glitter dangerously. Our absence was noted and now we have to explain ourselves to his satisfaction.

 

Effie steps in smoothly and says, "Please forgive our tardiness, darling Primrose felt a bit overcome from all of the kind words and needed a moment to compose herself. Dear Katniss was ever so helpful; I fear we would have been even more tardy had she not been there to soothe her sister. You understand how overwhelming all of this is for someone of Primrose's age and experience.   I beg your indulgence, sir."

 

He studies us carefully, taking in the tear stains on my dress and Prim's lack of makeup. He inclines his head once. Our explanation is acceptable.  

 

"I am pleased Miss Everdeen was there to take care of young Primrose, she's such a good elder sibling. More people should be as caring as her."

 

I mumble out a "Thank you," hearing the reminder implicit in his words.

 

As if reading my mind, he continues, "I was just talking with Mr. Crane here about your upcoming nuptials. It seems that they will need to be postponed a few days. I'd forgotten about some prior engagements that unfortunately require my full and immediate attention, otherwise I would postpone those in lieu of the happy event. I do hope you don't mind the delay."

 

I do mind the delay. I want to get this over with and go home to District Twelve, but I know what my answer must be so I say, "I don't mind. I am honored by all of the attention you and the Capitol have given us. Have you decided on a better date?"

 

He smiles at me. "I have, my dear. How does July Fourth sound? I have double checked my calendar and have cleared it specially for you."

 

"Perfect. It sounds perfect." That's ten days from now, which gives Prim more time to recover, but it also means my mother and I will have been gone for about three weeks. I don't have to worry about stocking up for the winter anymore, but I'm still anxious to get home.

 

Peeta steps forward. "We're both so grateful that you're doing this for us. We'd have never had a wedding like this if it weren't for you."

 

I struggle to keep myself from wincing and I catch Haymitch doing the same. Peeta's ability to say what sounds like the right thing but really is not is still in full effect.  

 

Snow smiles at us, his lips pulled tightly across his teeth. It isn't a pleasant smile. "Indeed."

 

The conversation has taken a dangerous turn so I glance around looking for a way out and I spot one. "Do you mind?" I ask President Snow, motioning to the mounds of food. "I haven't eaten since before the recap ceremony and I'm famished. I don't want to be rude, but I don't think my stomach growling is going to make good conversation."

 

"Katniss!" Effie jumps in before Snow can say anything. "Why didn't you say something? You know how the doctor has admonished you most sternly for not eating enough. Why I have half a mind to march you over to the buffet and stand over you to make sure you eat!"

 

"Please, Effie, let me," Peeta interjects, putting his arm around me. "I've got to get used to taking care of Katniss here because we won't have you around to watch out for us when we go back to Twelve." He turns to Snow. "If you don't object, sir."

 

Snow waves us away. "No, I don't object. After all, you should both become accustomed to looking out for each other." It's a warning and I can feel Peeta stiffen against me at Snow's tone.  

 

"Thank you, sir," I say, taking Peeta's hand to lead him away.

 

The excuse for the escape isn't completely inaccurate, I am hungry and all of the food looks delicious.

 

We go down the buffet with me pointing at the various appetizers and finger foods that look appealing. As we walk, Peeta starts a running commentary about each of the foods, pointing out the ones that look too strangely beautiful to eat like the miniature birds with feathers made of fennel leaves or the bright pink confections he calls macaroons with gold leaf on the top.

 

Regarding the latter he says, "I wouldn't eat them if I were you. Although I wonder if your poop is all sparkly after eating them." He reaches out for one.

 

I can't help it, I laugh. "Peeta! Stop it! You're gonna get us in trouble."

 

He grins at me. "Fine, but then I demand we try all of this," he gestures to the heap of food on the plate, "somewhere where we can't get into trouble if I'm unable to hold my tongue." The words are light, but I'm reminded of earlier in the day when he said he wanted to talk to me. I'm guessing now's the time.

 

"Outside?" I suggest, pointing at the open doors.

 

He nods and says for the benefit of anyone overhearing, "That way if we don't like something no one can hear us complaining."

 

"Come on," I say, motioning with my head to the door. "I'm starving."

 

We weave our way through the crowd nodding at various well wishers but refusing to be sidetracked from our goal. Once outside, Peeta tries to lead me to one of the benches nestled along the rose garden but I shake my head. I remember from my talks with Finnick and Haymitch on the roof of Mentor Central that the Capitol likes to place bugs near where people sit to talk and instead motion to a gravel path off to one side and the fountain visible partway down it.

 

Peeta looks at me curiously.

 

"Just trust me."

 

He makes a sound of agreement. The fountain has a raised ledge that we sit down on. Peeta offers the plate to me and I take a roll of something wrapped in a thin dough wrapper.   Carefully setting the plate down between us, he picks up one of the intricate birds and asks, "Why here?"

 

"The benches are probably bugged," I answer in a low tone. While the sound of the water splashing should cover most of Peeta's and my conversation, it's still not completely safe.

 

"Ah," he says, playing with the appetizer in his hands. "I should have guessed."

 

I take a bite of the food and it is delicious like everything here in the Capitol, but I don't get to enjoy it because Peeta follows up with. "What's going on between you and President Snow?"

 

I deliberately finish the rest of the roll before replying, "I'm not sure I should tell you."

 

His eyes narrow. "That means you don't want to tell me, right? It's got something to do with me, doesn't it?"

 

I don't say anything for a few long moments.

 

Peeta shakes his head. "Don't bother; your silence is speaking for you. I have a right to know, Katniss! This is my life and my future that you're playing with." He clenches his fists, crushing the bird-shaped appetizer in his hands.

 

I look at the destroyed food and sigh. He's right, it's his life and he does have a right to know. For Prim's safety if nothing else. If he gets angry and says or does the wrong thing at the wrong time the broken bird won't be some bits of vegetable and meat, it will be someone like Prim. I reach out and take his hands, immersing them in the water of the fountain. "The truth doesn't always set you free like the old saying goes. Sometimes it weighs you down and suffocates you."

 

"Is that what's going on?"

 

I nod. Rubbing my fingers over his to wash away the bits and pieces of food, I pull my thoughts together. "Snow thinks that you're instigating a rebellion."

 

"What does that have to do with you?" He doesn't deny my words, which confirms that he is encouraging people to rebel like Snow and Haymitch suspect.

 

I meet his eyes. "Snow seems to think I can control you."

 

"That's it?" he asks incredulously, pulling his hands away. "That's why you're acting like we're in love even though we both know you're not. It's why we're getting married in less than two weeks, because for some reason Snow thinks you can control me? That's not right."

 

"I know it's not. But we don't have a choice," I tell him.

 

"No, you don't understand, it doesn't make sense. What aren't you telling me? Why are you acting like you're in love with me?" His voice sounds pained.

 

I don't know if I should tell him the whole truth, but he's right to be confused. "I wanted Prim to come home. She needed you to keep her safe. You needed sponsors in order to be able to win. It was the only thing I could do to get you both sponsors."

 

"So it was just for the Games? You don't feel anything for me?" He crosses his arms and hunches his shoulders forward.

 

I start to reach out to him then stop, my hand suspended in midair. I want to comfort him, but I don't know if touching him will help. "I'm grateful that you kept Prim alive."

 

"I don't want your gratitude," he says sadly.

 

"I don't know you well enough for anything else," I say frankly. Then I add, "The boy who protected my sister, who granted the last request of a girl who was about to die; I admire him and want to make sure he doesn't die because the world needs more people in it who are good and kind. I want to protect that goodness."

 

"You did that. You don't need to marry me for that. Snow has other ways he could keep me under control."

 

"It isn't that simple."

 

"Sure it is. We go back in there and tell him you aren't in love with me and we aren't getting married and that's it. Then we can all go back to Twelve and you can go back to Gale and everything will be back to the way it was. You kept me alive for the Games, your debt is paid."

 

"No, Peeta, you don't understand. We can't go back to the way things were. Don't you see? It's not just about you and me and being in love, Snow knows we're not. Or at least he knows that I'm not in love with you. He doesn't care. If we don't do this Prim..." I trail off, unsure how to explain this to him. I know that he's going to react much like I did when I found out and I don't know what he'll do when he does. I take a deep breath and start again, "If we don't do this, if I don't show Snow that you're pliable and willing to help quash the rebellion you lit the spark to, he's going to make Prim become like Finnick Odair."

 

"I don't understand."

 

I bite my lower lip and try to figure out if there's a gentle way I can break this to him. There isn't. So I take a deep breath and say, "The Capitol sells its Hunger Games Victors as whores. They're bought and paid for and they don't have a choice. If they don't do what the Capitol says, someone they care for suffers."

 

"What?!" he says leaping to his feet and glowering down at me. "And people are okay with this? Haymitch and Effie and Portia are okay with this? What kind of people are you?"

 

I glance around frantically as Peeta's voice gets louder. "Calm down! People will hear!"

 

"Let them!" he thunders. "They need to know just corrupt and perverted their government is."

 

"They know! Effie and Haymitch and Cinna all know and don't like it either. How do you think I feel? Prim's my sister. My baby sister! And the thought that she..." I struggle to find the words, "That they'll make her... I wanted her to come home so badly but not if..." I glance away to prevent myself from crying.

 

Realization dawns on his face. "And you've made an arrangement with Snow to keep Prim out of that," he whispers, sitting back down on the ledge heavily.

 

I nod. "And you too," I add in a soft tone.

 

His eyes widen when he realizes that it wasn't just Prim who was in danger but him as well. "What's your arrangement?" he asks, swallowing visibly.

 

"I keep you from saying stupid and inflammatory things and Prim becomes his granddaughter's companion. Prim comes to the Capitol to be Lyta's friend and she'll be able to go to school and everything. But I have to keep you under control. If I don't..." I don't finish the thought. "They've already modified her as a warning."

 

Peeta swears and clenches his fists. "That bastard! That damned bastard!" He looks at me. "You should have never been involved in this. This whole thing is between the Capitol and me."

 

"It's never just between you and the Capitol. You have family and friends. You think they wouldn't hold them hostage just like they're holding me and Prim?"

 

His shoulders slump and he brings his hands up to scrub at his face. He does that for a few moments before turning to me and saying in a dejected tone, "No, you're right. They've always got something or someone to hold over the heads of the people they want to control. It's not right."

 

"No, it isn't. But we can't do anything about it. All we can do is try our best to survive."

 

His eyes glitter in the low light. "I didn't want this."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"How can you stand me, Katniss? Because of me, your family's in danger. Because of me, you can't marry Gale and have a family with him."

 

I don't know what to say and I blurt out the first thing that comes into my head, "I'm not going to marry Gale."

 

"Not now you aren't," he agrees, morosely.

 

"Not ever," I correct. "Gale's a good friend, a good hunting partner, but I'm not going to marry him. Even if I didn't have to marry you, I mean. I told him weeks before the Reaping."

 

"Why?" The question seems important to him.

 

I shrug. I don't really have a good answer. Before I got pregnant, I probably could have seen myself marrying Gale at some point. But after I got pregnant, things changed. Gale changed, becoming more possessive and assuming things about me and about us. He stopped talking to me and started dictating to me and that's when I stopped seeing myself marrying him. Not right after we'd had sex, but later, after he found out I was pregnant, he started making assumptions. But that's between Gale and me and it isn't any of Peeta's business so I hedge and say, "We weren't a good fit."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"So am I."

 

"So now what?"

 

Sensing that the worst is over, I say, "Now, we eat. I'm still starving." I pick up one of the forgotten appetizers and take a bite.  

 

"That's not what I meant. What do we do about this whole marriage thing?"

 

I finish my bite and pick up one of the dumplings. "What can we do? We get married."

 

"I don't want to marry someone who hates me."

 

"I don't hate you."

 

"But you don't love me."

 

I don't know what to say. I don't want to give him false hope, but at the same time I want to offer him something. "I don't know you well enough to love you. You have to get to know someone before you can fall in love with them." I smile at him gently. "I don't even know your favorite color."

 

"It's orange."

 

"Orange like that woman's hair orange?" I ask, motioning to a woman whose hair is a bright, almost neon, orange.

 

Peeta snorts. "Oh heck no! Orange more like sunset." He looks over at me. "Or like the orange in your dress."

 

I nod in understanding.  


"So what's your favorite color?" he asks.

 

"Green," I answer quickly.

 

"Just green?" he probes.

 

"Just green." I smile at him.

 

"I probably should have guessed. I mean you spend all that time on the other side of the fence."

  
"That's not why I like it. Or rather it's not the only reason why I like it." I amend.

 

"So why do you like it?" he asks, his eyes intent.

 

The reason is intensely personal but I need to give him something. He protected and saved my sister. He's had his soul bared to all of Panem. I need to let him know that it was worth it. "Do you remember when we were eleven and you burned that bread and gave it to me?"

 

"Of course I do. You mentioned it when you said goodbye to me in the Justice Building."

 

I fiddle with one of the appetizers. "It's not just the bread that I owe you for. The next day at school out in the school yard, our eyes met for a moment and then you looked away. Do you remember?"

 

"Yeah. I was trying to work up the courage to go talk to you and I looked over at Delly for support. When I looked back, you were examining something on the ground."

 

"Not just something, a dandelion. When you looked over to Delly, I ended up dropping my gaze because I was embarrassed by everything and that's when I saw it.   It was the first spring dandelion and seeing it reminded me that I could feed my family.   You see, I'd lost more than just my father. I'd lost hope. Seeing that dandelion gave me hope and I knew I'd be able to survive."

 

He looks at me, confusion written all over his features. "Are you saying that I gave you hope?"

 

I bite my lower lip and nod once. I haven't told anyone else about this. Prim knows I saw the dandelion but she doesn't know that if it weren't for Peeta I'd never have spotted it.  

 

"You don't need to marry me because of that. You can tell Snow that I'll behave without having to put on this sham of a wedding. You don't need to go through with this."

 

"Peeta, what do you think will happen to you and me if we don't get married? The whole Capitol will know that they've been played. Snow can't have that. Someone's going to have to take the blame and it won't just be you. Effie, Haymitch, Cinna, me, Prim and who knows who else will all be condemned because of this."

 

He opens his mouth to protest then closes it as the truth of my words sinks in. He rubs his hand through his hair in frustration. "I know," he says, taking a deep breath. "I just didn't want this. At least not this way. I wanted this to be real."

 

I don't know what to say. Instead, I move the plate of food to the ground, placing the morsel I'd been playing with on it. Then, I slide over and place an arm around his slumped shoulders.  

 

We sit like that in silence for several long minutes. He doesn't cry, for which I am extremely grateful. I don't handle tears well.   Instead, he just sits there quietly lost in his thoughts. After a while, he straightens, shrugging my arm from his shoulders and turns to me.

 

"Thanks."

 

I make a motion indicating that it's no big deal.

 

"I suppose we should finish off our food and go back in and mingle."

 

"We probably should. Are you going to be okay?"

 

"I will be. At least I think I will be. I want you to know, Katniss, I'm not going to make you do anything. You don't even have to live with me when we get back to Twelve.   We can just play this up for the cameras and then forget the whole thing when we're home."

 

I'm tempted. It would give me more time to be with Prim before she has to go to the Capitol after the Victory Tour, but something about the idea feels wrong and I say so. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. But thank you. I'm not going to force you to do anything either."

 

"That's good to know," he smiles at me. "I don't know how we're going to do this."

 

"I don't either. But at least we're going to do this together."

 

He nods. "Together."

 

 

**oOo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written: 10/21/14  
> Revised Part One: 10/22/14  
> Revised Part Two: 10/23/14  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre (Twice!)
> 
> Part of me wants to end the story here, and it does work for an ending. But I do have one more chapter planned out. I want to try to get it done before NaNoWriMo starts this year. 
> 
> This chapter could be called the chapter from hell for me. I lost both Peeta's and Katniss's voices so many times you do not even know. Peeta was especially hard since he's changed a lot from where he was in the books. The core of him is still there, just the experiences are different which is coloring everything. I also ended up excising about 3000 words from this chapter. Two thousand words were lost to a scene that added unnecessary drama and went nowhere ultimately that I ended up getting blocked on part way through. Then the remaining one thousand were because Katniss and Peeta were totally failing to cooperate and I went off into heavy handed symbolism relating to food and how it's a metaphor for life. Yeah, not a major loss but still a time suck. I'm happy to have this over. 
> 
> I also now have a tumblr - http://fanficallergy.tumblr.com/. I'll be posting some meta and other stuff there. 
> 
> There is a sequel planned for this and boy have I been itching to get to it.


	36. Chapter 36

**oOo**

**Chapter Thirty Six**

 

After Snow's reception, things go back to normal. Or at least as normal as they can be while still being held prisoner in the Capitol and being forced to prepare for a wedding that less than a month ago wasn't even a possibility.

 

The day after the reception, Peeta drags Haymitch and Effie up to the roof to discuss the idea he proposed where he and I live apart in when we get back to Twelve.   It goes over about as well as I expected.

 

"You can't do that," Haymitch says bluntly.

 

"Why not?" Peeta asks. "It's not like anyone from the Capitol will be there to monitor us. All we have to do is play lovers for the Victory Tour and then once that's over the Capitol will forget about all of that and move on to the next shiny thing that captures their attention."  

 

Effie snorts inelegantly and shakes her head. "You silly boy. Of course the Capitol shan't forget. The Capitol never forgets, even if it seems to ignore. Why, they still talk about the horrible scandal that your mentor caused almost twenty-five years ago with his unorthodox win."

 

"Hey, I used the weapons they gave me," Haymitch says with a shrug. "It ain't my fault they gave me a forcefield to play with."

 

Effie smiles at him. "You're incorrigible, but my point still stands. Snow hasn't forgotten and neither has the Capitol."

 

Taking a swig from his ever present flask, the man adds, "What's more, your houses will be bugged."  

 

"What?" Peeta and I both exclaim.

 

"Get used to it," Haymitch tells us. "Any privacy you thought you had ended the moment Prim volunteered at the Reaping," he says to me, then turns to Peeta. "And now that you've won, they're going to be scrutinizing everything you do from now on and I do mean everything."

 

"That's disgusting," Peeta says, making a face.

 

"Not disagreeing, kid, but there ain't nothing short of overthrowin' the government that you can do about it."

 

Peeta narrows his eyes at Haymitch as if trying to figure out the man's motives before saying, "Snow will never let that happen."

 

"That's right, he won't. So you'd best get used to the new status quo and make the best of it," Effie slips in. "Now, I'm sure there are other things we must be doing and I seem to recall that you, Katniss, have another fitting with Cinna today. So come along, we mustn't be late!" The escort minces to the rooftop door and holds it open for me, beckoning at me with one lace-gloved hand.  

 

"Go on, sweetheart, Peeta and me'll have a nice chat and I'll get him straightened out for you."

 

I am not comforted by Haymitch's words but Effie is right, I do have a fitting. With my ever expanding belly, Cinna's been having fittings every day to try to make sure the elaborate dress he's creating fits perfectly.  

 

Shooting one more nervous glance toward Haymitch and Peeta, I let Effie spirit me away.

 

**oOo**

 

A few days later, the fittings stop. I find out why while watching television in the waiting room of yet another doctor's office.

 

Peeta, Effie and I are seated in the beautiful, but highly uncomfortable chairs watching some news show. I'm trying to ignore the curious looks being directed at Peeta and myself by the other patients. Peeta squeezes the hand he's holding and looks over at me. After my first appointment after the recap, Peeta asked if he could accompany me. I didn't want him to, the visits are embarrassing and somewhat degrading. But I remembered Haymitch's warnings about being scrutinized so I relented. It might strike people as odd if the supposed father of my baby wasn't involved in my pre-natal care. I smile half-heartedly at him and turn back to the television.

 

There's some kind of news program on. I don't really care about which celebrity was seen with which other celebrity or that the people making 'Dusk,' the new 'Twilight' reboot have announced that they've cast Don Lothario as Jared White, but my ears perk up when the pink haired woman says the following: "There's some bad news for those hoping to attend Klum Gunn Fashion Week next month. One of the factories in District Eight producing the textiles and fabrics for the collection has suffered an unfortunate accident when an underground gas main exploded beneath it, killing beloved fashion designer Santino Siriano, who was visiting to meet with the factory overseers in the blast. President Snow was quick to offer his condolences to Siriano's family and vowed to send experts to Eight to make sure another tragedy doesn't occur. Additionally, because of the accident, all work has been halted in the remaining factories until their safety is assured. The spokeswoman for Klum Gunn Fashion Week, Nina Kors, has announced that due to this halt, the weeklong event will be postponed until further notice." She pauses and consults a screen in her desk then continues, "In other news, the Minister of Energy, Kenneth Skilling, announced that due to an unprecedented plant malfunction in District Five, there will be rolling blackouts for residential zones between the hours of two and six am. District Five engineers are working to get the plant repaired and technicians from Districts Three and Six have been dispatched to aid in the restoration."

 

Next to me, I hear Effie murmur, "Oh dear, that's not good."

 

"What isn't good?" I ask, keeping my voice low so we won't be overheard.

 

She shakes her head, indicating that now isn't the time to talk.

 

I let it drop for now, trusting the escort's instincts on the subject.

 

We're called in to the exam room a few minutes later during a report on how Peacekeeper enlistment is at an all time high. Considering I know now that many Peacekeepers come from District Two, I'm sure that the word enlistment is simply a euphemism for conscription. I wonder what's going on and if this has to do with why my wedding to Peeta has been postponed.

 

The doctor's visit itself is thankfully noninvasive. The woman measures my belly and asks Effie a few questions and then we're done. Apparently my weight is improving and the baby seems to be growing nicely. It's a welcome change from my first visit. The only hiccup during the appointment comes when the doctor asks to have Peeta tested to make sure he doesn't have any genetic predispositions to some strange sounding disease.   Peeta and I exchange worried glances because if they run that test or any test and compare it to the baby's genetics they're going to know he's not the father. It's one thing for Snow to know, it's another for all of Panem. Effie once again steps in and manages to deflect the situation back into safer territory. She points out that all tributes are tested both before and after they come out of the Games and that there's no need for any additional tests since the Gamemakers are very thorough.   The doctor concedes and I let out a mental sigh of relief.  

 

The car ride back is uncomfortable. Effie's turned on her Capitol persona full blast and is babbling at Peeta and me about this landmark or that one. I'm not sure why she's doing it, but I play along, feigning interest in the cafe where they shot some stupid movie.

 

When we're back in Twelve's apartments, Effie immediately drops the act and stalks over to where Haymitch is lounging, watching some show. "Where's Finnick?"

 

"With one of his clients," Haymitch answers. "What's got your panties in a twist, princess?"

 

"Have you even watched the news?"

 

"They got it blocked up here, you know that. It's all propos, Hunger Games, and fluff."

 

Effie seems to deflate. "I forgot."

 

"Ain't nothing. But what's up?"

 

"Is Primrose here?"

 

The man shakes his head. "No, she and her ma are off somewhere with that granddaughter of Snow's."

 

"Good, then we can talk outside." She drags him to the balcony and motions for Peeta and me to follow. When we get outside, she says, "There's been uprisings in Five and Eight and they're calling up more Peacekeepers to deal with it."

 

Beside me I hear Peeta gasp and I struggle not to do the same. Uprisings don't happen in Panem. At least not since the Dark Days.

 

"How do you know?" I ask.

 

"Those news reports," Effie answers. "A power plant malfunction large enough to cause blackouts in the Capitol? A gas main exploding in a district with no gas mains? Increased Peacekeeper enlistment? Someone at the Ministry of Propaganda has been working overtime and hasn't bothered to even put together a believable story. They might as well have said gangs on PCP caused the problems. It'd be closer to the truth."

 

"Oh," I say softly. "How is this going to affect the districts?"

 

"It ain't gonna be pretty, let me tell you. There'll be some serious hardship comin'." Haymitch regards us solemnly. "You two are gonna need to be real careful now. Snow's going to expect you to play your part and help calm down this rebellion." There's something in the way he says it that makes me think that he means almost the exact opposite.

 

"How does he expect us to do that?" Peeta asks.

 

"Distraction. Deflection. Whatever it takes."

 

"It's not going to work," I say, after thinking my way through it. "The districts aren't going to care about Peeta and me or my kid."

 

"That's not what Snow thinks and you know it. You just got to do your best to survive until something or someone else comes along."

 

"That sounds a lot like your advice to me and Prim before we went into the Games," Peeta observes.

 

Haymitch smirks. "It worked, didn't it? So don't knock it."

 

Effie steps in. "Haymitch and I will do our best to guide you, but you'll both need to think before you say or do anything."

 

I nod my head. "We'll do our best."

 

"That's all we can ask for." Effie straightens, slipping her Capitol Persona on once more. "Now, why don't we see about dinner? I am absolutely famished and want cheesecake with strawberries and chocolate."

 

**oOo**

 

 

Later that night, Finnick and Beetee join us. I'm surprised that Beetee is still in the Capitol, but apparently the Victor from Three lives in the Capitol about half of the year. His expertise with electronics and computers makes him highly in demand at various companies which hire him to build or upgrade their computer systems. It explains why he and Wiress were able to modify Gale's records so easily. They had built the system that housed them.

 

Beetee greets Peeta and Prim enthusiastically. "It's so lovely to meet you both finally."

 

"You're not mad at us?" Prim asks, shyly.

"Why ever would I be? It's not like you put the sword through their chest or snapped their neck," he says, referring to how Radi and Axel died. "That honor belongs to the boy from Two, and you, my dear girl, are decidedly not him."

 

"And what about me?" Peeta asks, looking at Finnick. "I killed your girl."

 

Finnick shrugs. "It was the Games, Peeta. Coral knew her chances going in."

 

"Volunteer, right?" Haymitch asks, looking up from where he's pouring drinks for everyone.

 

"Both of them were," Finnick answers.

 

"Unusual for Four," Haymitch observes, taking a sip of one of the drinks. He makes a face and pours something from another bottle into the glass until it's almost overflowing. "Must have been one hell of a Reaping."

 

"Well, it wasn't as dramatic as yours this year," Finnick says pointedly. "But it still was pretty emotional."

 

"Fair enough." Haymitch acknowledges the other mentor with his glass, spilling some of the contents in the process. "I'd say offer the families my condolences but that'd be a bit insensitive."

 

"Just a bit," Finnick agrees.

 

"Effie's always tellin' me to work on my manners. So I'll just say I'm sorry they had to die, but not sorry that my tributes lived. Does that work?"

 

"From you, I'd say that was the pinnacle of politeness." Finnick turns back to Peeta. "We're fine, Peeta. In fact, I'm glad you and Prim won. While I would have liked one of mine to come home, I'm not upset that you won or at the manner in which you got there. It isn't your or Coral's fault that you were put into that situation and it'd be kind of silly of me to hold it against you when I did the same thing to Haymitch's tribute in my Games." He tilts his head back over toward Haymitch. "Although I will say that boy was annoying as all hell. It was bad enough getting all of those stupid gifts, your tribute making snarky commentary didn't help. Do they breed them up sarcastic where you come from?"

 

Haymitch just shrugs. "Don't know what to tell you, Finn, it must be somethin' in the water."

 

"That explains so much," Finnick murmurs. He holds out his hand to Peeta. "So are we good?"

 

Peeta clasps the proffered hand firmly. "We're good."

 

"Excellent! Now I hear that you three are very popular with the Capitol crowd, much like me and Beetee are. Effie suggested that the two of us mentor you post Games. Since your mentor is a despicable reprobate who will only corrupt the two of you beyond all recognition." It's obvious that he's repeating Effie's words almost verbatim.

 

Prim, Peeta and I all look at Effie, who's handing out the drinks Haymitch made. "It was only an idea," she says, giving one glass to Peeta and another to my mother. "I thought that since Haymitch isn't as well-liked by the Capitol that you should have a guide who is."

 

"Hey!" Haymitch protests.

 

"Now Haymitch, you know it's true," she soothes. "You never had the demand that Finnick or Beetee have and that is nothing to be upset over. You have many skills, but negotiating the pitfalls of Capitol Society isn't one of them. That's why you have me!"

 

"Not for much longer," he mutters into his glass.

 

Effie falters for a moment. "Well, no. But that makes it even more important that Primrose and Peeta as your new co-mentors step up into the role that I perform since I shan't be able to look out for you anymore."

 

Beetee clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. "We haven't much time.   Shall we proceed?"

 

Those of us from District Twelve all look at each other in confusion. Then my mother asks, "How are we doing this?"

 

"Beetee will coach Prim, since other than Cecelia, he's got the most experience with what Prim is going to encounter in her life after the Games," Finnick answers. "I'll take Katniss and Peeta here."

 

"I'll stay with Prim," my mother decides.

 

"So will I," Effie says. "After all, Cecelia was my companion and I can coach Primrose on just what she is likely to encounter."

 

"I guess that leaves me with you two," Haymitch grunts, draining his glass. "I can hardly wait."

 

We figure out the arrangements and times. Beetee wants to get started right away, but my mother objects because of the time and Prim's health. I don't say anything but I agree with my mother. I don't want to deal with this right now and I lean against Peeta tiredly.

 

Finnick notices and smiles knowingly at me.

 

I scowl back. I'm exhausted. The gesture doesn't mean anything.

 

"We should postpone this until tomorrow. Not everyone is a night owl like you, Beetee."

 

"Well, yes, but I find that I can accomplish so much more when there are fewer distractions."

 

"Ain't no one gonna distract us right now. Snow's got bigger concerns at the moment," Haymitch says. "You can do this when the kids are able to listen. We'll meet here tomorrow at ten, that way everyone can get their beauty sleep." He's looking at Finnick when he says this.

 

Finnick flashes Haymitch a cheeky grin. "It'll take more than a good night's sleep to make you beautiful."

 

"Get out of here."

 

Finnick and Beetee get.

 

**oOo**

 

The following morning finds Peeta and me standing in the living room of Four's apartment. Haymitch begged off, claiming that his head was pounding too much to think straight. It might even be the truth.

 

Finnick has a bunch of snacks laid out, including the fish shaped bread with seaweed and salt on it that is so indicative of Four and little rice balls wrapped in seaweed with some kind of fish inside. He pours tea for all three of us before plopping down on the floor next to the coffee table, his knee drawn up with his arm resting on it.

 

"Take a seat," Finnick says from the floor. "We've got a lot to go over."

 

I sit down on the couch.

 

Finnick hands me a cup of tea. "Sugar cube?" he asks, holding a bowl of them out.

 

I shake my head. "No thanks." I don't like sweetened tea. It takes away from the flavor of the tea itself.

 

Finnick turns to Peeta next. "Come on. Sit."  

 

Peeta eyes the couch then heads toward one of the chairs next to it.

 

"Not there." Finnick stops him. "Next to Katniss."

 

Peeta glances over at me for permission and I nod, patting the seat next to me.

 

When he's settled, Finnick hands him a cup of tea. "Better. You two need to start acting like lovers, not two scared kids."

 

"Even if we are?" I ask wryly.

 

"Especially if you are," he says, crunching into a sugar cube. "The Capitol will find ways to use that against you. The ones who make it here are the ones who are confident and who know how to play the game. The ones who don't get chewed up and eaten until there's nothing left."

 

"What do we need to do?" Peeta asks.

 

Finnick grabs one of the fish shaped pieces of bread and starts picking the salt off of it. "First off, come to terms with the fact that you are getting married and everything that entails."

 

"Including..." I trail off, not able to voice the word.

 

Finnick can though. "Yes. Including sex. The Capitol is going to expect it and may even require proof."

 

Peeta frowns. "What do you mean, proof?"

 

"They could make you have sex in front of witnesses or videotape it or any number of ways. They want the Star-Crossed Lovers of District Twelve and that's exactly what you're going to give them."

 

"How?"

 

"By being so adorably in love that you'll cause Caesar Flickerman to go into sugar shock. By being inseparable. By confirming that by saving Peeta in the Arena that the story that they fell in love with is real and ongoing."

 

"But it isn't."

 

"The Capitol doesn't know that."

 

"Snow does."

 

"Snow isn't the Capitol. He might be in power now, but it's hard to stay balanced on a pedestal without support." Finnick's words are enigmatic and I find myself frowning at him. He knows something but he can't say it. He's already taking a risk in telling us this much.

 

"So what can we do to stay in the Capitol's good graces?" I ask, leading us back to our original subject. I'd stayed quiet up until now but we were getting nowhere.

 

"Have you decided on your talent yet, Peeta?"

 

Peeta blinks at the non sequitur. "What's that got to do with anything?" I'm with Peeta there. What does Peeta's talent have to do with us convincing the Capitol that we're in love? I know that Hunger Games Victors are encouraged to develop a talent after the Games. Last year's winner, Lupus Maxim, chose dance as his talent. It didn't turn out well.

 

"Just humor me." Finnick snags another sugar cube from the bowl and pops it into his mouth with a smirk.

 

Peeta shrugs and looks around the room. "Painting, I guess."

 

Finnick chuckles. "I figured you'd say that, and in any other instance that'd be a great talent. But unless you want to make Katniss your muse and model, it's a solitary talent."

 

I frown. I don't want to be Peeta's model. I'm still not comfortable with the fact that Effie brought along the sketches Peeta did of me for the interviews. I'm not sure I could tolerate more.

 

"I don't think Katniss would like that," Peeta says, glancing over at me shyly. "She's never been one to sit still."

 

"I don't disagree with you. Katniss definitely strikes me as an action kind of girl. Still, if you could find something for the two of you to do together, it'd help."

 

"But I don't have any talents," I protest.

 

"Sure you do!" Peeta disagrees. "You're smart and you're a great hunter, an amazing hunter, and... and your voice can make the birds stop and listen."

 

I blush at Peeta's words. He's so passionate, so admiring, it's a little hard to take. I'm not used to praise like that and I'm not quite sure what to do with it. "Yeah, but none of those will help us any. It's not like you can paint my songs."

 

"Why not?" Finnick asks.

 

I frown. "Because they're songs. They don't come with pictures."

 

"That's why Peeta will need to come up with them. You can sing your songs and Peeta can illustrate them." Something inside me twists. A lot of the songs I know were passed down to me from my father. I'm not sure I want to share them with the Capitol.

 

"That sounds odd," Peeta says.

 

"In the Capitol, they have books for children that are illustrated. Some of them are very popular, like 'The Little Tribute Who Could' or 'Six in One Blow.'" There's something about the way he says the names that makes me study his face. There's a hint of sadness in Finnick's eyes.

 

I'm not the only one who notices it. "The first one's about you, isn't it?" Peeta asks, his eyes intent.

 

Finnick nods. "And the other's about Beetee. There's a whole industry that surrounds the Games. Glamorizing them. Praising them. After every Games, a whole slew of books come out claiming to tell the real story of the person who won them. Some are aimed at kids while others are aimed at adults. They're all insanely popular."

 

"Insane is one way to put it," I mutter.

 

"I agree with you. But you can work with that. Capitalize on it. Bend it to your favor."

 

"I'm not sure songs are the best idea," I say, thinking Finnick's suggestion through. "Some of them could be taken the wrong way."

 

"Good point," Finnick concedes. "What about stories?"

 

Peeta turns to me. "Stories could work. I overheard you telling Prim some after your father died."

 

If anything, I'm even less inclined to share my stories with the Capitol. Most of them are about my father or they're stories my father told me when I was a little girl. I'm not sure if the Capitol deserves them and I say so.

 

Finnick makes a face. "To be perfectly honest, they don't. But do you have a better idea?"

 

Peeta and I look at each other and shake our heads. We don't.

 

"Think about it this way," Finnick offers, "you're writing and illustrating these stories for that little lady right there." He motions to my protruding stomach. "The Capitol gets to read the copies, but the originals will be for her."

 

It's a technicality. But it's one I can live with and if it keeps Peeta and Prim safe, I'll do it.

 

"Now what?" Peeta asks.

 

"Now I teach the two of you how to listen to what's being said and what's not being said so that you can learn the full story. There's a lot you can learn from interacting with people in the Capitol or even watching the news. It's all in understanding how to interpret it."

 

"How did you learn all this?" Peeta queries pointedly.

 

"Experience," Finnick says sadly. "Experience I hope you never have."

 

**oOo**

 

I'm awakened at dawn on July Fourth by Cinna and his prep team to start getting ready for the wedding. My wedding. Two words that somehow seem utterly surreal and wrong. The ceremony itself isn't until the early afternoon but for some reason it's going to take hours for me to get ready.

  
Back home in Twelve, an engaged couple just dresses in their finest clothes and goes to the Justice Building to sign the official paperwork and declare their living quarters. If they're lucky, they have a party afterwards before the toasting. If they aren't, they still have their toasting in the first fire they lay in their house together.   The whole thing, including the party, takes less time than the preparation time for my Capitol wedding.  

 

I'm carefully made up and my hair coiffed before being escorted to the waiting limousine. According to Effie, my and Peeta's wedding is going to take place in President Snow's rose garden.   After the ceremony, there will be a small reception and then President Snow has so graciously offered to allow Peeta and me to use a suite in his mansion for our wedding night.

 

The last has me concerned and I think back to Finnick's words that the Capitol might require proof that we're in love and actually being intimate. I'm not sure how Peeta and I are going to get out of this one. I have until the end of the ceremony to figure it out.

 

When we arrive, I am shuffled off to a small room that overlooks the rose garden. Hundreds of white chairs line a flower petal strewn path with a large rose covered arch at the end. Behind the arch is a manufactured lake covered in water lilies with a fountain in the center. To one side, I can see a carefully maintained hedge maze and debate the merits of losing myself in it before going back to watching people arrive for my wedding. My mother and Prim are seated up front on the left side of the aisle while Haymitch and Finnick are on the right. Caesar Flickerman is greeting everyone effusively as the seats start to fill with brightly dressed Capitolites.

 

It's almost time.

 

Cinna and Venia ease me into my dress and then carefully make last minute alterations - a tuck here, a fold there. The dress is a confection of lace and silk in a pale ivory. The gown is long and flows over my belly gracefully. The gradient lace overlay is beautiful and made especially for me. Near the hem, the lace has an almost flame-like pattern and is dyed a pale orange and as it progresses up my body the flames morph into bird like shapes of grey and white - Mockingjays. Venia carefully weaves sprigs of flowers into my elaborately coiffed hair: baby's breath, lilies, and miniature roses. When she's done, Cinna carefully winds a thin peach colored ribbon around my neck and affixes Seneca Crane's fire opal broach to it.

 

The stylist steps back and regards me solemnly for several long minutes.

 

I fidget under his scrutiny, hating how I feel so fake. The dress is lovely, but it isn't me. None of this is me. I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next few hours, let alone a lifetime of marriage to Peeta.

 

"It'll be alright, Katniss," he says after few moments. "Just be yourself and you'll make it through."

 

"Stop reading my mind!" I snap irritably. "This isn't another interview with Caesar Flickerman! This is the rest of my life. I'm allowed to be nervous and scared."

 

He steps forward and enfolds me in a warm hug, ignoring Venia's noise of protest. Cinna motions the woman away. "You're right, you're allowed to be nervous," he murmurs next to my ear. "But I'm here to tell you that you're going to be just fine. That boy loves you. The real you. Not who the Capitol made you out to be. I think if you give him half a chance you might end up friends."

 

"I think the Capitol wants a bit more than just friends," I mumble into his chest.

 

Cinna smiles down at me and says in a low tone, "I think if you give it time and patience, it could happen. And it'd be real, not something made up for the cameras."

 

"I still wish..." I trail off.

 

"I know, Katniss. Just give him and yourself a chance."

 

A knock on the door signals the end of my reprieve. Venia scurries to answer it.

 

"Are you ready to meet your fate, Miss Everdeen?" President Snow asks, stepping into the room. I hear the faint strains of a string quartet playing a complicated canon signaling that the wedding is about to begin.

 

I nod my head, not trusting myself to speak without betraying myself.

 

Snow holds out his arm to me, and I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow just like Effie instructed me to. He smiles down at me. "Shall we go, my dear? Your groom awaits."

 

**oOo**

 

"Congratulations on your wedding, my dears, I wish you both nothing but joy."

 

It's the same trite and tired phrase Peeta and I have heard over and over again since we've been forced to stand in this reception line after the ceremony. This time it's uttered by a diminutive old woman with a huge yellow hat and bright blue hair. I have no idea who she is and at this point I don't care. All I want to do is get something to eat, go to the bathroom, and get out of here and not necessarily in that order.  

 

A half hour later, we finally finish receiving well wishes from people we don't know and are directed inside to a banquet hall. After a quick stop to use the facilities, an avox leads Peeta and me to a table up front where we're seated between President Snow and Caesar Flickerman. My heart sinks. I can see my sister and mother are seated next to Snow and Haymitch and Effie are on the other side of Caesar.

 

Thankfully, we don't need to talk much. Apparently there is this weird Capitol custom where people bang their silverware on their glasses to encourage the newly wedded couple to kiss. I despise it.

 

Naturally, the first time this happens, I have a mouth full of food. I look around in confusion and spot Octavia making these strange gestures with her hands. I have no idea what they mean.

 

"I see that no one has informed you of our quaint custom, Mrs. Mellark," President Snow murmurs. "Your guests would like you and Mr. Mellark to share a kiss."

 

I choke down my food and turn to face Peeta with wide eyes. It's bad enough that we had to kiss at the end of the ceremony, having to sit through a whole meal while Capitolites call for more public displays of affection is going to be torturous. Still, it's what's expected, so it's best to get this over with.

 

Reaching forward with my left hand, I slide it up Peeta's cheek. He frowns at me in confusion.

 

I lean forward and whisper, "Just follow my lead."

 

I feel a miniscule nod under my hand.

 

Carefully, I position my arm to block the view of the people watching and move so that Peeta's and my lips are almost touching. Quickly I explain the custom to him.

 

He pulls back and flashes the crowd an embarrassed smile before turning back to me and saying, "I'm still not used to public displays of affection. You're going to have to bear with me."

 

"Same," I murmur in agreement. "I'm not comfortable with them myself."

 

"Think we can tell them that?" He nods his head toward the watching crowd.

 

I turn slightly in my seat and catch a glimpse of Snow's face out of the corner of my eye. He's enjoying our discomfort. Turning back to Peeta, I shake my head. "No."

 

"I promise you, Katniss..." I gently place a finger on his lips, stopping him before he can say anything Snow might overhear and take offense to.

 

Then, to cover what I'm doing, I give him a quick peck on the lips. "We can talk about it later. For now, let's try to enjoy the party."

 

Reluctantly, he nods, his eyes conveying just how unhappy he is.

 

I want to do something to make him less sad, but I'm not sure what, so I concentrate on my dinner.

 

I pick at my salad, which is like no other salad I've had with large chunks of stale bread mixed with tomatoes and cucumbers and seasoned with vinegar and oil.   Back home, food like this would be something we made because we had nothing else. Here, it's a delicacy. The next course is rice wrapped seafood with some kind of spicy sauce on top. Kissing Peeta during this course is not pleasant and I hope to have something better tasting soon.  

 

The next course buoys my spirits since it's a lighter version of the lamb stew with dried plums. The broth is clearer and the lamb is seared instead of stewed, but it's still delicious. Peeta gets some of the broth on his upper lip, so the next time I'm forced to kiss him I lick it off.

 

He pulls back and eyes me with something like hope in his eyes at the gesture. Not wanting to shatter his hope, I just smile back. We're married now. We need to try to make this work.

 

The main course receives several cheers from the crowd. Avoxes with skewers of meat flood the reception hall. There are different cuts of beef, chicken, pork and lamb, all cooked to varying temperatures and flavored with different seasonings. I want to try them all. At the same time, other avoxes bring out various side dishes: green beans in a red wine and onion sauce; some kind of grain seasoned with toasted pine nuts and garlic; asparagus smothered in a rich cream sauce; and buttery roasted potatoes sprinkled with pepper, salt, rosemary and thyme.

 

I forgive whoever planned the menu for the first two courses when I bite into my first slice of leg of lamb. The richness of the meat roasted in a salt and herb crust is almost heavenly.

 

Of course someone in the crowd starts tapping on their glass again. I shoot a glare in their general direction and the clanking stops.

 

Next to me, Peeta chuckles, "I wish we'd thought of that sooner."

 

"It's getting old and I'm hungry and all of these interruptions mean I can't enjoy my food." I'm almost embarrassed by how entitled, how Capitol, I sound. But the only good thing about the Capitol is the food and I want to enjoy it. I'm sick of having to perform in this charade and just want a few moments to savor what good there is here.

 

Snow seems to understand because he says, "The interruptions are getting a bit out of hand, I admit. I had hoped that my citizens would show more restraint but I had underestimated your appeal."

 

There's something in his words that causes me to pause, trying to figure out what he means. There's a hidden meaning here and I need to puzzle it out before I say something and make it worse.

 

Peeta has no such restraint. "Do you think you can ask everyone to hold off until Katniss finishes eating? I'm worried about what will happen later if she doesn't get enough food. I've heard stories about pregnant women who haven't been fed enough taking it out on their husbands, and I'd rather not find out first hand. We'd both be even more grateful than we already are, if you could."

 

Caesar picks up on our conversation. "I'm sure the people will be happy to comply with such a noble request. We wouldn't want to interfere with your wedding night, after all!"

 

The food in my mouth suddenly loses all flavor. The wedding night. I know Peeta and I had agreed at the Victor's reception that we wouldn't have sex until we're both ready, but the Capitol is unlikely to be so understanding.

 

Thankfully, neither Snow nor Caesar seems to notice my reaction and Caesar stands up to convey Peeta's request.

 

There's the requisite booing from a few quarters, but for the most part people seem to be willing to cut back on the clinking. I'm grateful. I know Peeta and I will have to do something later to make it up to them, but for now we can eat in peace.

 

Dessert is, of course, a cake. Elaborately decorated with twelve individual tiers, the cake is larger than I am. The bottom and widest tier is decorated to represent District Twelve with fanciful and false depictions of coal mining all over it. Each respective tier is a caricature of the district it is supposed to represent. It reminds me of the parade costumes. Frivolous. Shallow. And totally missing the point. On the very top, representing the Capitol, is an intricately carved miniature representation of President Snow's mansion.

 

The symbolism is clear.

 

Because it's expected, Peeta and I get up and make a show of exclaiming over this decoration or that decoration. As we examine it, I notice that the craftsmanship isn't as good as Peeta's and I say so.

  
Peeta blushes. "I might have put a little extra effort into the ones in the window of the bakery because I knew you and Prim liked to come look at them."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah. It was something that made you happy. I wanted to make you happy." He looks away and mutters so softly I can barely make it out, "I still do."

 

Without thinking about it, I lean up and give him a quick peck on the cheek.

 

He turns and stares at me, trying to figure out if the gesture was for the cameras or not.

 

I smile at him, my real smile, the one that reaches my eyes, to tell him that the kiss was real. The way his eyes fill with hope again almost takes my breath away. Peeta loves me. Still loves me. And it's a bit overwhelming. I look away.

 

An avox brings us an oversized knife to cut the cake with. We hack a small piece out of the bottom layer and feed each other the cake. It's dry and kind of tasteless. I'm guessing it is supposed to be some kind of citrus cake but it just tastes like nothing.

 

Peeta leans over and whispers in my ear, "They didn't use enough butter or eggs and they left it in the oven for too long. I'll make you a better one when we get home."

 

Home. Home with Peeta. We leave for Twelve tomorrow at noon. But none of us are going to be going back to our original homes. Prim and my mother will be living in one house in the Victor's Village while Peeta and I will be in another. Peeta and I both agree that his parents and brothers will stay in town in their home above the bakery. I may be forced to live with Peeta, but I'm not about to be forced to live with his mother. Effie told me that they've already made arrangements to have movers meet us at the train station. I'm never going to go back to the place I've always thought of as home again.

 

Peeta notices my expression and tries to cover it by putting his arm around me. I want to shrug away his help, but I know it would be noticed and commented on. Instead, I lead Peeta away from the cake and out toward the dance floor.

  
According to Effie, Peeta and I are supposed to dance the first song together. Then each of us is supposed to partner with various people until Snow gives us permission to leave. Apparently several people have paid for the pleasure of assuring a dance with one or the other of us. It's not quite prostitution, but it still leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

 

The crowd applauds when the popular singer Gabriel Peters steps up to the microphone and announces that he's there to perform the first song for Peeta's and my first dance. The song is slow and about how Peeta and I found each other in our lover's eyes. It's just another piece of the same pointless drivel the Capitol is known for.

 

After the song finishes, another singer, David Stardust, is called up to the applause of the crowd. He's got crazily spiked hair and pointed ears and he wears an outfit that is skintight and accentuates his crotch. The crowd loves him. I find him a creepy, if decent, singer.

 

For the next couple of hours, Peeta and I are passed from one eager partner to another. I'm tired and I need to use the bathroom again about halfway through but there's no reprieve in sight. For the most part, the majority of the people I'm dancing with are kind and just eager to have a moment of my time, even if I'm treading on their feet. A few of them aren't, however, and I take perverse pleasure in grinding their toes into the floor, even as I apologize sweetly for doing so. I receive word that we only have to endure five more dances before we can make our escape.   It can't be soon enough.

 

After we finish our required number of dances, Cinna spirits me away to remove most of my makeup and allow me a moment to breathe. I see Portia doing the same for Peeta on the other side of the room.

 

We reconvene and Peeta and I dance together for our final song, this one about the world falling down. The dance is nothing like the kinds of dances we have at home. The motions and rhythms are different and I keep stepping on Peeta's toes. It's embarrassing.

 

Peeta tells me he finds it endearing.

 

I frown, but don't argue.

 

An avox comes to fetch Peeta and me after the last dance. We're led to the head table where the crowd, already mostly drunk, shouts out a series of well wishes at us.

 

Of course, the last well wisher is President Snow. The man holds up one hand and intones, "As President of Panem, I wish Mr. and Mrs. Peeta Mellark a long and fruitful union, and may they always remember the path that brought them to this happy moment."

 

I feel Peeta stiffen beside me, but he doesn't say anything. No, Peeta and I won't forget just who made all of this happen. Peeta's no longer a tribute and I'm no longer a spectator. We're equal participants in this next, more dangerous, game.

 

I take Peeta's hand and hold it tightly.

 

We're going to get through this. We have to.

 

Peeta and I both have our parts to play and the show is only just beginning.

 

**oOo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Written: 11/4/14  
> Revised: 11/8/14  
> Revised 2: 11/9/14  
> Beta Read by RoseFyre 
> 
> OMG! OMG! OMG! Spectator's finished y'all! You don't know how excited I am to be able to say that. 
> 
> I am super grateful to everyone who's followed me on this journey. I started Spectator almost exactly two years ago and I'd never thought it'd get the response it did. Thank you to everyone who commented, left kudos, or bookmarked this story. You overwhelm me, all! 
> 
> I really need to give thanks to two people, without whom Spectator wouldn't be the story it is today. The first is my amazing friend and sounding board Peasant007. She's been encouraging me from the beginning to write this. The other is my Beta, RoseFyre. This story wouldn't be what it is without her fabulous, amazing, wonderful, fantastic, and all of the other effusive adjectives you can think of efforts. Without Rose, this story would be so much worse you don't even know. She's also been completely spoiled to where this thing is going so she knows if I contradict myself based on what I have written for future events. 
> 
> I do plan on continuing in this universe. But there is no ETA for when. I am currently in the middle of NaNoWriMo and working on other things in real life. So you may want to follow me as an author. If you are interested in reading about my writing process or other meta thoughts on this and my other stories you can follow my tumblr. I'm FanficAllergy over there.
> 
> Please, please, please take a moment and leave a comment or a kudo. Thank you!


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